Stay With Me
by mackenzie925
Summary: Clark and Chloe, both suffering, spend an unforgettable night together.  But was it a mistake, or love?  And will fate give them a chance to find out?  Rated a soft M, to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Stay With Me**

**Rating: **PG-13 to R

**Pairing: **The one and only – Clark/Chloe. My heart's desire.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**Author's Note: **Always, in my world … everything happens as it should. For those of you still searching for the absolution that I, too, so desperately crave, I hope this story helps you to believe.

Streams of yellow sunlight stretched lazily through the loft window and painted the barn in morning dawn. The loft seemed quiet save for the birds' occasional chirp just outside, and the distant sound of a mooing cow in the fields far away. It was late spring in Smallville, but the days were already seasoned with summer-like temperatures. This morning was no different, and explained the reason why Chloe was sprawled out on the couch with only a thin-layered blanket for warmth.

Well, a thin blanket and a warm Clark Kent.

Chloe stirred awake to the sound of those birds, which seemed strangely odd to her. Whenever she fell asleep in her dorm room on the Met U campus, the last sound to wake her was the morning song from a bird. Usually the constant, annoying blare of her alarm clock aroused her, though other mornings it ranged from the clatter of hung-over students in the room directly above hers to the obnoxious beeps and whistles of an early morning in the city. She remembered how the latter was once the background noise to a normal day in her life long ago.

Apparently, the childhood she spent living in a chaotic city was cancelled out by the years of peaceful quiet she spent in a Kansas farm town.

Nevertheless, Chloe's eyes slid open with a mild sense of panic as her surroundings began to come into focus. Though she thought her head was lying on the hard, institutional mattress at college, with a more careful inspection she realized her cheek was actually pressed down against Clark Kent's chest. A [I_bare_[/I Clark Kent chest. Over the next few seconds her mind began to recall different moments from the night before. However, she needed to see it for herself. She needed confirmation.

Responsively, she lifted her head just enough to capture the scene in its entirety.

Just as she expected, Clark was sound asleep underneath her. His head was turned a bit to the right as he slept, and his black hair was tousled. Chloe could feel him take a breath with every gentle lift of his torso, and his breathing was shallow and calm. The peaceful image of his sleeping form almost reminded her of a child during naptime in grade school. She realized then she had never seen him this early in the morning, or rarely ever sleeping at all. And for a brief moment, she felt like one of the privileged few.

Further concentration soon revealed his left hand strewn casually along her back, while his entire right arm was drooped over the side of the couch. Her left arm was drooped in the same manner, and Chloe could feel circulation return to it with each lightning strike of sensation under her skin. Each second of consciousness arose new feelings, and the most prominent, along with the tingling fire in her arm, was the intense press of her bare skin against Clark's.

Though she didn't want to look, suddenly content within the blurry world of naivety, Chloe knew it was in her best interest. Knowing the answer in her mind didn't matter much, but when she gazed down at her own form underneath the blanket, her heart finally saw it to be true.

She had just slept with Clark Kent.

_more to come_


	2. Chapter 2

**_About 11 Hours Earlier_**

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Clark stood quietly at the loft window. He had watched the skies all evening from this perch, as he loved this time of night. Just after dusk in Smallville always felt romantic to him, especially during the spring and summer months. If he listened long enough with his super-hearing, he could just catch the bellow of a frog on Crater Lake, or the harmony of crickets hidden in the woods surrounding the house. Add the soft moon, and he almost felt lost in a poem, at the mercy of the hand that wrote him.

He took a sip of his freshly brewed coffee and pushed the imagery aside. He was not in a poem, and nor did he have any reason to relish in the beauty of the countryside around him. Just more than a month ago, Clark had broken up with Lana. Although it was the right thing to do, something he was even more certain of as the days went by, he still suffered through the sting of losing her. What made the sting even more potent was how certain he had been of her place in his heart, in his destiny.

Apparently, fate had something else planned for him, and it didn't include his childhood crush.

Nevertheless, it was difficult not to feel hopeful when she called him earlier in the day. Clark was surprised to hear from her, and the sound of her voice almost convinced him to give their relationship another chance. Given his recent loneliness, it was an easy proposition to entertain again. In fact, he could almost forget the reasons they broke up - because he couldn't tell her everything and because they were never emotionally close.

The latter he only recently accepted.

When she suggested they should meet later at the Talon _'to talk'_, Clark had to remember those two reasons of their incompatibility. The last thing he wanted to do was go into their conversation with the mentality that something romantic between them could be resurrected. The break-up was messy enough without succumbing to the illusion that something was still there to build upon. Despite how he longed for her, in any scenario, they would always end up in the same place, and with the same problems.

Luckily for both, Lana had her own agenda. And over her steaming cup of vanilla cappuccino, she promptly informed him of her growing relationship with Lex Luthor. She wanted to be the first to tell him rather than some stranger. Forget that he already suspected something was going on, and not just during the past few weeks. He knew for a long time that Lex had feelings for her.

Chloe had also been keeping something from him since he broke up with Lana, which was completely unlike her. Looking back in hindsight now, Clark knew this must have been it. Obviously, she suspected something was going on between her roommate and the billionaire, and chose to spare her best friend the inevitable heartache. Though he originally felt hurt by that conclusion, he quickly realized Chloe was just trying to help him in any way she could. Anger towards her wouldn't help, especially when she had nothing to do with Lana seeing Lex.

Above all, especially with him, her heart was always in the right place.

After their short, informative discussion at the Talon, Clark and Lana went their separate ways. Clark wondered why Lana drove two hours just to tell him that, but then remembered her new beau lived just a few miles down the road. More than likely, she was going to see Lex on her trip to Smallville, as well. It was Saturday night, after all, and Clark suspected Lana would not be going back to her dorm in Metropolis anytime soon.

Of course, Clark ended up here, in his self-made Fortress of Solitude. Chloe has told him more than once how she worries about him, especially when he locks himself up in his loft, and usually days at a time. It was true; he didn't go anywhere or do much. The farm seemed to be his only refuge from his melancholy, and, really, he had no wish to spend his nights in a nightclub full of people he didn't know.

As his eyes gazed out upon darkness, and the stars that shimmered brightly above, he realized he longed to see Chloe. Though solitude was comforting, so was a good friend.

"Hey," came a soft voice behind him.

Clark turned quickly to see Chloe standing at the top of the stairs. His heart felt like it was going to leap from his chest. He never thought the sight of Chloe Sullivan would make feel this good ... as if she came to his rescue, or something.

Maybe wishing on stars wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"Hey," he said finally, turning around completely to face her. He wondered if she had misled him all these years, and she actually was telekinetic. However, as the role of his best friend, she was bound to show up exactly the moment he needed her most. Maybe all best friends in the world had this ability, but he didn't think so. Showing up to help him, especially throughout the recent year, has been an endearing Chloe Sullivan trait

Despite his recent thoughts of Lana, Clark couldn't help but notice how amazing Chloe looked tonight. Actually, he discovered he was staring - specifically at the spot where her V-neck merged - and blushed profusely before he turned away.

Okay so ... maybe he was lonelier than he thought.

Anxious to quell his sudden desires, Clark asked quickly, "Did I know you were coming?"

Chloe shook her head. "No, this is me fulfilling my new year's resolution ... do something spontaneous."

He nodded absently and set his coffee mug down on the windowsill. Though her presence was helpful, he sensed she didn't come for him. As he turned back to her, Clark watched her walk up to his desk. He never told her this, but he often found himself just watching her from a distance. Actually, ever since he discovered her knowledge of his powers, his super-hearing seemed attuned to her heartbeat. Even with her miles away in Metropolis, he had a tendency to sense whether she was aggravated or in pain.

At the moment, he sensed a slight anxiety in her pulse. Something was definitely wrong.

"You could've called if you wanted to talk. You didn't have to travel three hours. I would've come to you," he said quietly.

Chloe stared leisurely at the pictures on his desk. Noticeably, she realized the one of him and Lana cuddling was suddenly missing. He still kept the small picture of the three of them, though it had been set towards the back and out of immediate sight. Her father always told her that the mood of a person could be seen through the pictures they kept close. Obviously, Clark was trying very hard to forget Lana.

Though she came with an interest of seeing how he was doing, she would by lying if she said her reasons were not somewhat personal. Just being with him made her feel better, however. And that was the primary reason for her visit.

She sighed deeply, then looked to him. "Driving tends to be my tonic."

"For what?" he asked softly, drawing his eyes away from her. He didn't want to press, but the growing flair in her heartbeat wouldn't let his concern go. Maybe she didn't want to talk about it, but he wouldn't let up until he was certain she was okay. It was the least he could do for everything she has done for him.

Clark frowned a little when he realized how little he has paid attention to her the past year. With everything happening at once, from his father's death to losing Lana, it was no wonder he kept mostly to himself. But those reasons were not good enough for ignoring his best friend. In fact, no reason was ever good enough.

Chloe merely shrugged and walked over towards the couch. She thought about sitting down, then decided against it. Something deep inside warned her about getting too comfortable in Clark Kent's loft right now. Looking up, seeing the distant vulnerability in his eyes, Chloe sensed it was best if they kept their distance. Neither could handle more than simple conversation, and she feared the consequences of allowing something far more serious to occur.

It's still only been a month or so since he broke up with Lana. What he needed right now was not another possible love interest ... but a friend. And she wanted to be that for him more than anything else.

Not that anything would ever happen anyway. But, well ... vulnerability can make anyone do anything. Further, it can be the primary role-player in the biggest mistakes. And the most painful heartaches.

"I talked to Lana," she whispered. She gazed up at him, and saw the blood drain from his face.

Clark nodded and looked back to the loft window. "Yeah, she ... told me." Part of him wanted to drop the subject altogether. If anything, he preferred to spend his precious free time with Chloe talking about some random case, or watching a movie for old time's sake. It had been far too long since they had done the latter, and he suddenly felt the urgency to suggest it. That's what he would do ... ask her if she wanted to stay and have a movie marathon.

But the idea died the moment he asked the question he already knew the answer to. Because he had to know for sure.

"You knew about Lana and Lex, didn't you?"

Chloe didn't want to answer, knowing he might not react well. Distantly, she wondered if giving into Lana Lang's insistence to remain quiet was such a good idea after all. She hated lying to Clark. Even worse, she hated being placed in the middle of her friends' problems, as if they expected her to choose a side. She couldn't do so back in high school, and she refused do to so now, despite her own opinions on the matter. Both were her friends and both needed her in their own way.

And like any good friend, she stayed up endless hours with Lana when Clark finally ended their relationship. Her friend cried for a long time, and, as a best friend, she sat with her and held her hand - told her it would all be over soon. She ensured Lana that the pain would fade away in time, and, further, promised the world wouldn't end just because Clark Kent said he didn't love her.

Clark, on the other hand, came around twice as often as usual to help quell his sadness. He followed her everywhere, and, all the while, tried to rationalize his unexpected decision to give up the love of his life. _Well, _Chloe thought, _unexpected where Lana was concerned_. Unfortunately, by Clark's own hesitation to reveal the truth, Chloe sensed this was how it would all end. And her previous assumption that Lana was Clark's destiny died, as well.

Because of the lies, emotional intimacy, the electric charge of a long-term relationship, was impossible for them to achieve. True soul mates longed for every type of intimacy, and felt ultimately lost without it. True, life long lovers craved the day they could lie fully exposed to one another, both physically and emotionally, certain they could do so with no one else. Certain their souls were only alive when they were in each other's presence.

Such connection, such relentless need was the true sign of something special, of something worth fighting for.

It was the very sign missing from the Clark and Lana relationship. The sign neither could see, nor force where it didn't want to settle. The absence of which blinded them for far too long, and for years convinced them that underneath their natural, physical attraction was something to build upon.

_How quickly that foundation crumbled ... and under the weight of everything they couldn't say to each other. _

When she felt Clark's eyes boring into her, she finally gave in and looked up to meet his inquisitive stare. She had no intention of letting their relationship succumb to the same fate.

"Yeah," she said slowly. "I knew."

He dropped his head and gazed out the loft window. Though he promised not to feel hurt by her admission, the sting of her words still clung to his heart. But what he didn't expect was the mark of jealousy that lingered along with it. After surviving such terrible heartache, with Lana and his father, he realized how possessive he felt towards her. In times like this, he often believed Chloe was his comfort alone.

Clark grimaced, knowing it was incredibly selfish to feel that way. It wasn't fair to expect Chloe to give him all of her attention. Putting her in the middle of this wasn't good for either them, or for Lana.

But he couldn't let the feeling pass entirely. Chloe ... he depended on her. She was his refuge, and he had no wish to share her with anyone else.

"I walked in on them ... well, let's just say the electricity was strong enough to light Las Vegas for an entire week," she admitted weakly, hoping to show him how she wished it had never happened. As usual, she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time - a trait that has gotten her into more trouble than she was willing to admit.

Despite the circumstances, Clark smiled at her sarcasm. But he remained silent, and instead found solace in those beautiful stars once more. Again they twinkled, but this time he wished he could turn back time. Maybe doing so would wash away all of his transgressions. And maybe he could fix all of his mistakes.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. Lana made me promise ...," Chloe began, timidly.

But Clark interrupted. "It's okay. Really."

Chloe nodded and folded her arms, instantly satisfied with his response. She knew Clark would tell her if he was truly angry. At the moment, all she sensed in him was sadness - a sadness created by everything he let slip away. And the section of her heart reserved only for him began to ache. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Clark shrugged. "Not really," he whispered, barely audible in the silence. What was there to say? Lana had feelings for Lex, and, obviously, chose to pursue them. Clark was no longer dating her, so she had the right to do whatever she wanted. Yes ... all of that was true.

Yet he still felt betrayed, made a fool.

"It's okay not to be happy about it. I mean, if my Ex was dating the devil, I'd have trouble accepting it, too," she offered lightly, causing Clark to smile. She loved making him smile. And when he finally turned to her, she reassured quietly, "And it's okay to still love her. I know you do."

Chloe was right ... he did. But that love has faded a little each day Lana's been gone. As has his own inability to see himself with anyone else. Lana's clear shift towards Lex made the latter even easier. And finally, especially after today, he felt a dire need to move on.

"I just wish I would've known," he whispered, letting his eyes settle on Chloe's comforting features. "So Lana is not my destiny ... that's obvious now. But then ... who is?"

Chloe dropped her hands to her side and walked closer. Despite Clark's origins, he worried over very earthly problems, with earthly emotions. Gazing at him now, as the moonlight drifted in, she saw a normal, struggling man rather than a super-strong Kryptonian. She would often find herself just staring at him in awe, while he visited her at the _Planet_ or in her dorm room. He looked so very human, so very much like everyone else.

"I don't know, Clark," she admitted sadly. "I don't think anyone ever really knows when they will find ... _the one_, for lack of a better term. Personally, if that love means anything, it will knock us over when we least expect it. Like in the morning, when we're drinking our tenth cup of coffee or something."

Clark smirked. "From your tone, I sense you have yet to find him."

She remained silent for a moment, choosing to push away what she really wanted to say. Something like, '_I found him six years ago, and he still doesn't recognize me.' _But that would be revealing too much. Her hope for such a love, a love that awakens the soul, faded away a little each year. So much so that she even wondered whether such love ever existed in the first place. Maybe the love she sees in movies, or reads about in Nicholas Sparks' books were merely that - _fiction_.

"No," she said. "And, according to Lex, I will never find him."

The reason for her visit finally surfaced and in a very strong way.

Clark turned to her completely now, only a foot away. "What? What are you talking about?"

Tears swelled in Chloe's eyes, despite her best efforts. After she left Lex's mansion that day, the same day he claimed to see the reason why no one wanted to be in a relationship with her, she hurried back to her car in complete silence. She drove away then, as if the words had bounced off her heart like one of those silver balls in pinball that ricocheted wildly off the little walls inside the game.

Fifty miles through her trip, while she drove past the golden crops of corn that seemed to stretch straight to the sky, she pulled off the road and onto a small, gravel path leading further back into the countryside. She turned the car off, leaving only the hum of a lawnmower in the distance. And as the sun dipped below the horizon, swallowed up by the green stroke of forest just beyond, Chloe dropped her head into her hands and cried.

She tried to blink away the memory, or at least the pain, yet it lingered in her words as she spoke.

"Just that ..." she began, wondering if she should really go on. "When I confronted Lex about his convenient pounce on Lana, he reminded me why I would always be single."

Clark stepped even closer, and instinctively reached for her hand. "What did he say?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. I stormed in, uninvited, and argued with him. Accused him of taking advantage of Lana, and told him I would make him pay if he ever hurt her. He acutely shot back and observed, because of my unattractive burst of anger, mistaken accusations, and my habit of being where I don't belong, he realized why I have never had a boyfriend."

Chloe laughed weakly and paused for a moment, letting the words settle in the air between them. "And, you know, he's right."

"Chloe," he berated softly.

But she shook her head adamantly, hating herself for allowing this topic to go further. "Maybe it'll never happen for me. Maybe I'm meant to work 24 hours at the _Daily Planet_, until all that's left of me is a few, lousy articles."

Clark pulled her closer, and was glad she didn't try to pull away. His heart ached to see her this way, knowing words from a distasteful, rude billionaire had drifted into her soul like a flesh-eating virus. He longed to show her how valuable she was, how she would always be the prize for any man lucky enough to gaze her way. Even more, he longed to squeeze his hand around the windpipe of a certain, long lost friend.

"Don't talk like that," he whispered quietly, confidently. He pulled her closer still, and placed a gentle hand along her cheek. The act forced her to look at him directly, giving her the chance to wade deep within the sea-green waters of his beautiful eyes. And his touch to her skin felt electric, stilling everything around her save his next uttered words. "Lex is ... nothing. His words mean nothing."

"But what if he's right?"

Clark rubbed his thumb gently across her skin, noting the heat rising to her face. The emotion of the moment was taking her finally, and his soul throbbed painfully when the first trail of tears fell slowly down her cheeks. One left a puddle against his hand, it's strength searing through his veins, and seeping right to his heart. Seeing her so broken ... broke him in a way he never expected.

Swallowing hard, he reiterated again. "He doesn't know what he's talking about."

Without thinking, Clark bent forward and placed a small kiss on her forehead. Her skin was warm underneath his lips, and he could feel the pulse of her racing heart the longer he lingered there. After a moment passed, he glanced down at her. "You're amazing," he whispered, kissing her left cheek. "Beautiful," he breathed against her right cheek. "Intelligent," he said softly, placing a kiss to her nose to accentuate his words.

Each kiss wiped away more of Chloe's pain, until only her never-ending affection for him remained, until she only saw those amazing eyes looking to her lovingly and longingly in a very sensual way. She almost didn't believe it, thinking the feeling of standing in his arms while he rained kisses across her skin was merely a wish of her subconscious. A wish she had never truly let go.

Yet the soft lips brushed across her chin felt incredibly real. As did the sound of the word _'passionate' _whispered gently in her ear. Anything they discussed before he started kissing her seemed blurry and unattainable. In an effort to gain some composure, Chloe began to play over the conversation in her mind. She remembered climbing up his steps, finding him drowning in his own, dark reverie. Further, she remembered the pain she felt when she saw him, knowing just the sight caused her stomach to turn into knots.

But a kiss grazed along her jaw effectively clouded those memories for good. Now, only his kisses and his stare were important.

"Fiery," he added softly, with just a little smile.

Then his expression became serious. The need to make her feel valuable began to intensify, so much so that it was all he could see now. And he couldn't fight the feelings, the warmth of her skin, or the touch of moonlight across her face. Nothing felt so pure, or so lovely as her standing in his arms and looking to him for comfort, for a comfort they would have to create together.

Clark wondered then why he had never noticed how beautiful she was. Maybe it was this night, illuminating things that were otherwise hidden. Maybe he wasn't supposed to feel this way, and maybe his destiny wasn't meant to a-line with her in this way at all. And maybe this need to take her in his arms, to kiss her, and to feel her skin pressed against his was merely his loneliness looking to quench its thirst.

Nevertheless, he didn't want to look away. It had him now, giving him the courage to do what he needed most.

He bent forward, lingering just inches from her lips, and whispered above the silence, "And sexy." He almost couldn't believe he said it, but he didn't dwell. Instead, he closed the distance between them, shut his eyes, and kissed her.

The kiss was simple and soft. Their lips barely touched, as if both were worried to let it go any further. But it was enough to spur arousal at Chloe's core, causing her mind to whirl with a mix of unbelievable sensations. It had been far too long since they had done this, and when both were conscience of it. And like a warm bath engulfing her heart, she realized there was no kryptonite here at all, green or red. This moment, this kiss had happened all on it's own.

Just like the kiss they almost shared at the Spring Formal ... so long ago.

Feelings for him, once buried beneath layers of regret and false hope, were suddenly given life in those few seconds of affection. Renewed love surged to her soul the longer they kissed, and Chloe wondered if she had ever stopped loving him. She tried many times, knowing it was better for everyone if she pushed it aside, or forgot it altogether.

But his sweet lips ... oh, boy, did they remind her. And of everything she didn't want herself to feel again.

Clark then released her for a second, still just inches from her lips, and Chloe began to panic a little. The farm boy she knew might back away in embarrassment and tell her the kiss was a mistake. Even worse, he might brush it off as a friend in aid of another. For him, maybe that's exactly what it was, despite how it affected her.

Yet she didn't believe it. Something in that kiss, in his lips, told her that he felt the same shock, and the same warmth, as she did. It was warmth Chloe could only describe as a breeze on a summer day, or the bath of the sun on a beautiful beach. She wondered then if it had been so strong as to still his heart, or move him in a way nothing else has ever before. So overcome with emotion, he might even cower away and insist nothing happened. Afraid to admit to something that could have always been there between them.

All she anticipated, knowing any possibility could occur.

But before she could say anything, or ask what he was thinking, he kissed her again. And the worries she had quickly faded to the back of her mind, like they never existed.

Clark, on the other hand, couldn't define any of this. He wanted to. He wanted to peg it to the night so badly, as if he was unprepared to fully embrace what might be between them. After having dealt with a horrible relationship already, he didn't think he was ready to deal with another. Because, truly, would a relationship with Chloe last, or be any different than what he experienced with Lana?

Or would this moment be just what it was ... a second in time, a chance to feel something he hasn't before and would probably never again?

He immediately pushed the thoughts aside in frustration, however. Because right now, all he knew was that he didn't want this to end.

So when he kissed her the second time, Clark did so with a little more urgency, with a little more need. He smiled when he felt her respond to him, giving him the okay to let go just a bit more. As his hands drifted down to her waist, he tried to remember how this began. Something about Lana, and Lex ... and some other stuff that seemed hardly important right now.

But the graze of her tongue against his lips quickly made all his thoughts on the subject disappear. It didn't matter how they reached this point. What mattered was where it would take them, and if they were ready to follow the path. Clark realized how nervous he felt, sensing they were about to drop into a world neither had ever seen before. Making love to Chloe has been on his mind in the past, but always out of curiosity more than desire.

Yet, at the moment, he couldn't imagine feeling this much desire for anything, or anyone, else.

Her hands felt amazing as they encircled his neck, then drifted down his chest. Though the fabric of his T-shirt prevented skin-to-skin contact, he still couldn't help but shiver in excitement, eliciting a groan deep in this throat as a result. He tightened his grip on her waist when their kiss deepened, because the sensation surprised him. The sudden urgency in her kisses made him realize she needed him just as much as he needed her. Perhaps each wanted this for different reasons, but he knew it was for the same end – _to forget_.

And though the explanation for their initial passion became very clear, Clark sensed whatever this was would not end this night. In fact, by the drum of his own restless heart, he would bet on it.

Chloe wrapped her arms around his neck to get closer, more intimate with him. She actually didn't know if it was possible, considering there was not an inch of space between them right now. However, her action must have spurred something in him, because he suddenly pushed her back against the wall behind them. The loft window was just to her left, and as his hands worked underneath her blouse, she distantly wondered if doing this at this particular spot was such a good idea. She could only imagine Mrs. Kent's shock if she happened to look over and see the two of them making out so heatedly.

Clark didn't seem to think of it as a problem, and eagerly grabbed the bottom of Chloe's shirt. She pushed her fear aside, deciding it was too late now. Both were so caught up in each other - in the kisses, in the taste, in the heat - that neither imagined stopping. And that was why she didn't hesitate to lift her arms when he tugged her shirt up, enabling him to pull it over her head and throw it off to the side.

Just for a moment, as his kisses became even more passionate, she felt a little self-conscience with her exposure, despite the presence of her lacy, blue bra. She wondered what he might be thinking, if he found her at all attractive behind the status of best friend. Though they had kissed before tonight, they had never gone so far as to remove clothing, which was a whole new game. _Well, not to my knowledge, anyway, _she mused lightly, feeling her skin tingle when his tongue brushed urgently across hers once more.

His hands drifted across her stomach, then to her back, and finally down along her jean-clad thighs. But just before she could get used to his roaming hands, he lifted her up easily into his arms. She instinctively tightened her arms around his neck, and wrapped her legs across his waist as to balance herself. Though, Clark was far too strong to tire and let her fall. To him, she probably only weighed a feather, and the thought made her smile against his soft lips.

Those lips, however, swiftly moved from her mouth to the side of her neck. She let her head fall back to give him space, hearing herself moan with every nibble and suck against her skin. Responsively, she threaded her fingers through his thick, black hair, and immediately wondered why she didn't do it more often. Just the feeling was intoxicating, and by the mumbled groan against her throat, she sensed Clark enjoyed the sensation just as much.

Clark moved his kisses down to her shoulder, and then trailed his lips along her collarbone and chest with a slow tenderness. Her scent filled his nostrils, a mix of vanilla and coconut, and underneath a shot of exotic he had never noticed in her before. And as if he sensed her previous insecurity with attractiveness, he lowered his lips to the top of her right breast, just above her bra, and kissed it gently. After a second or two, and a flick of his tongue, he moved to the other and did the same, hoping his lips could show her how awed he felt by her beauty.

Chloe, moved by his affection, placed a warm kiss to his forehead, followed by another to his temple. And her need to be with him, to feel him treasure her, only grew all the more.

Somewhere in the middle of all of this, Clark had maneuvered them over to his desk on the other side. The desk wasn't where he wanted this to end up, but he also couldn't stand one more moment without feeling her skin gliding against his own. So he sat her on top gently, glad he had cleaned it off before she arrived. He cupped her face affectionately and he drew her into another deep, longing kiss, hoping she would sense his need buried within in the depth of his passion.

She moaned into the kiss, and heard him do the same when her soft hands found skin just under his shirt. At the moment, Chloe was happy just to graze her fingertips along his stomach and ribs. She could feel his muscles working and responding with every kiss, with every touch, and she longed to feel those same muscles working diligently while they made love. A blush crept to her cheeks with the thought, but she placed the idea in the back of her mind where she wouldn't forget.

In the meantime, needing more, caught up in his kisses, in his hands across her back, she grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up. A smile tugged at his lips between kisses, and he gave into her immediately by placing his arms over his head. In one swift motion, his shirt was removed and thrown to the side, revealing his strong, chiseled chest. Lips to her neck once more, Chloe ran her hands freely across his abs, and distantly wondered if all Kryptonians had looked and felt this breathtaking.

Suddenly, Clark picked her up again, and immediately her legs hugged his waist. She leaned into him fully, wrapping her arms around his neck, and felt him tense a bit when she finally pressed her bare skin against his. Overcome with the new sensation, he whimpered softly into her shoulder. She smiled sweetly with his reaction, knowing she had almost responded in the same manner.

Actually, Chloe never believed it was possible to be truly lost within the touch of another. But right now, she couldn't imagine anything more fulfilling ... save for the completion still yet to come, when they would finally be apart of each other in the most intimate and surreal way.

Clark walked over to the couch and laid her out on the cushions. He sat on the edge and leaned over her for a moment, his eyes, and his heart in disbelief that this wonderful woman was waiting for him. Never in his life did he think that a waiting Chloe Sullivan would look so sexy, so beautiful. He realized in that instant how many seconds, minutes, and hours he wasted looking the other way. Looking away from the one who could excite him like no other, and ignite a fire hotter than any blaze he built in honor of a certain brunette he pined over for much too long.

Why didn't he see it sooner? Why didn't he pay more attention? Why didn't he let himself feel this desire, this need ... this _love_ before?

This moment with her, _their _moment, would give him the chance to make things right. Everything would be different now. Chloe wouldn't just be his _best friend_, but so much more. Already he felt comfortable with her, like seasoned lovers should feel after months, or even years of being together. Maybe it was because they had been friends for so long, but Clark dismissed that idea the second he thought of it.

Clark saw the curiosity in her eyes with his sudden hesitancy to join her on the couch. With a smile, he quelled her fears by lifting up just enough to stretch himself out gingerly, and carefully on top of her. The core of his soul began to tingle with intense desire, like pure fire blazing frantically through his veins. Pleasure could not explain the feeling of being in her arms, on the brink of satisfying immortal love.

_No_, he thought weakly. _Nothing with Lana ever felt like this. Ever._

He groaned when her hands ran softly across his shoulders, to his lower back, and down across his chest. She wanted to treasure every part of him, like an artist with each gentle stroke of their brush across canvas. His skin felt soft, yet his body was hard and muscular, and each glide of her fingertips made her own skin flush even darker in excitement. Perhaps even in a little embarrassment, as well.

Chloe kissed his cheek, lingered, then trailed her lips along his mouth, gesturing for a deeper kiss. As he gave into her, slowly and sensually, she sensed they had suddenly shifted into an entirely different type of passion. This was no longer blind, and anxious. Rather, this was need, and at its purest definition. Like desert craving rain, or darkness searching for light.

And Chloe felt something different aside the pleasure; _fear _for what she didn't understand, and _fear _for what would come after this night.

Clark drifted his lips down along her throat, across her shoulder, and finally to her chest. She shivered slightly when she felt his hands dip underneath her back. Fingers brushed across the clasp of her bra, and she inhaled deeply with apprehension. So deeply as to still his movements, and force him to look up and into her eyes with great question. Because it was true ... this was it. The line was about to be crossed.

Concern shaded his eyes and he brought a hand to her cheek. He needed to know. "Are you sure?"

Though the fear remained, Chloe now felt trust with it, as well. The trust gave her courage to continue, to drag her hands slowly across his ribs and stop just short of the button on his jeans, knowing she wanted this. She wanted it so badly that it tore through her heart, begging to be quenched. Her chance to have him, completely, uninhibited, and all to herself, had finally come.

And she wasn't about to let this chance go by.

With a little smile, she cupped his cheek and asked soundly in return, "Are you?"

Clark stared at her for just a second, as if searching to ensure he should go on. Strangely, he felt she was doing the same analysis of him. Clearly, they were both concerned about going too far. Yet he could tell going too far was exactly what both of them wanted. So, after seeing the acknowledgement in her eyes, he bent down and grazed his lips across her cheek. Then lower to the hollow of her neck, feeling a shot of pure desire pulse through him when her hands gripped the button of his jeans tightly in response.

Gripped and unbuttoned ...

In reaction, his face buried in her shoulder, he felt her shudder as he unclasped her bra.

And above the passion, the lovemaking, the desire, Clark discovered his deepest fear. He didn't expect it, nor did he want to face it. Yet he knew he couldn't ignore it. So strong as it was ... the feeling a fog of pure, white light as it overtook him.

After tonight, he would be in love.

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**_Next section …_**


	3. Chapter 3

Next chapter 

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_**Back to that next morning ...**_

Sounds from the early morning began to filter into Clark's consciousness. Mornings on the Kent Farm were always the same, tainted with the same types of sounds to wake someone by dawn. Cows bellowed, birds sang, and bacon crackled like fire in his mom's frying pan. By the insistence of those very sounds, Clark was vaguely aware he had slept in far later than his usual routine. Groggily, he slid his eyes open, only to see the dusty ceiling of his loft directly above him.

Feeling a little strange, odd even, he stammered quickly to remember the night before. His heart knew, but his mind did not fully grasp everything. Not until he heard a faint, constant rustling next to him did the images from his night begin to drip back into his mind. Because he realized then, he was not alone.

Slowly he tilted his head up to discover the source of the noises. Chloe was standing some feet away, her bare back to him as she hurriedly slipped on her jeans and buttoned them. One of the magazines on his end table fell off in the wake of her haste, and she cursed a little under her breath. The entire night came storming back into his mind now, and churned like a waterfall in his heart.

He remembered now. Of course he remembered.

He continued to watch her as she searched frantically for her blouse and bra. She was radiant as the sun shone through the loft, basking her in a golden glow, like an angel descending from heaven. He felt a little cheated because he didn't get the chance to wake up with her in his arms. And right now, as he memorized every sensual outline of her upper body, her neck, and her profile in the shadows of the sun, his core turned into a river of molten lava, aching with need for her. He had to suppress the urge to pull her back into his arms, kiss every inch of her lovely skin, and make love to her again.

Not knowing what last night meant to her, he thought it best to hold back.

Nevertheless, he continued to watch her, drawn to her exquisite beauty. She finally gave up the search for her clothes and decided upon one of his sweatshirts instead. How she found one in his mess of a loft, he had no clue. Yet in seconds, she had slipped it over shoulders, and he smiled when he noted how big it was on her. But she did look awesome in it, and not just because he knew what she looked like underneath it.

When she walked to her purse on the end table and began to rummage through it for a brush, he decided it was time to announce his presence.

"Chloe?" he asked, sitting up.

She stilled and looked to him. The red tint of the Smallville High School sweatshirt she borrowed from Clark matched the rosy blush on her cheeks. Clearly, this was not a situation either of them expected to be in this morning. Yet, Clark felt a strange flair of enthusiasm, like a child coming upon a present before Christmas morning. It was a surprise, unexpected, and the best thing he didn't know to ask for.

He continued to stare at her, however. And she did so with him, as both were waiting for the other to say something meaningful.

Finally, after a long sigh, she whispered timidly, "Hey."

Clark swallowed hard. "Hey."

Flashes from their night together continued to run frantic in Chloe's mind. She turned away from him, feeling her heart weaken with every moment of silence. When she awoke a few minutes ago, she tried desperately to leave quietly and without fuss. She had no wish to confront him, or what they did. Last night was a fluke, because she knew how he felt - he loved Lana. And that would never change. More than likely, he let it happen because he was caught up in the moment. She would admit the same, despite the ache of desire in her soul.

And she knew her heart would be broken if she didn't speak up first.

So she did.

"It's okay," she said softly, finally turning to face him. "You know ... this doesn't have to be awkward."

Clark nodded, instinctively tugging the blanket a little further up his midsection. "Right," he agreed.

She smiled sheepishly, clearing her throat. "Right," she echoed softly, desperately trying to cover the shake in her voice with a willed modesty. "I mean this stuff ... happens all the time," she insisted lightly. "We were just two friends who needed comfort, and we ... comforted each other."

Clark flushed a deep red, his eyes dancing a little with her words. He nodded and smiled sheepishly in return, looking away just a little. "Yeah," he said, then added easily, "Three times."

Chloe smiled despite herself, remembering each and every time vividly. After their first session of lovemaking ended, they feel asleep on the couch in each other's arms, exhausted by their passionate exertions. Sometime in the middle of the night, an hour marked only by their need, she remembered Clark urging her awake with countless kisses across her skin. By the warm lips against her neck, the strong arms encircling her waist, and the chest pressed heatedly into her back, she discovered his form spooning contently around her from behind.

It didn't take long to build their arousal once more, through deepening kisses and careless affection. And in moments he slipped inside her for the second time, his cry of passion muffled against her throat. Her own cries, soundless and heartpounding.

The third came an hour or two before dawn. Before light, before the rest of the world could see what they had done. Desperate to treasure their time, which was wasting away much too quickly, Chloe took control. She straddled him, kissed him, and coaxed him slowly from his slumber. Sweet caresses along his chest, his arms, his shoulders, and Clark came alive with desire. Soon the rhythm was set, slow and sensual, timeless and beautiful.

_Life-altering ... a season of breathtaking love ... shared, endured, cherished ... _

A soft breeze from the window brushed across her face, pulling her from her thoughts. She blushed, but not just from the memory of their lingering passion. Instead she beamed a deep red when she realized Clark Kent was still naked save for a small sheet that barely covered him. That would make this a bit harder. But she had to continue, knowing it was best for both of them.

Nevertheless, to continue, she had to admit the obvious.

"Look, Clark," she began, stepping forward, summoning her courage. Her throat felt constricted as she searched for the appropriate words, anything to suffice, to tell him what needed to be said. "Last night was ...amazing," she commented, a little breathlessly, truly meaning it.

Making love to Clark Kent had been the most extraordinary moment in her entire life - so extraordinary as to scare her, and so extraordinary as to compel her to say these next, difficult words.

"But it was a mistake."

Clark sat up a bit straighter, letting his smile fade. Her admission was not what he expected to hear, and he realized now why Chloe didn't stay snuggled in his arms when the morning finally came. His heart thumped helplessly in his chest, lost to the certainty in her eyes. How could she ever think their night together was a mistake? It confused him, because he was sure she experienced the same blossom of love he did during the night of their unforgettable lovemaking.

And maybe he didn't know her at all. Maybe he was the only one who felt anything last night.

When his eyes looked aimlessly to her hands, however, he realized they were trembling.

"Stuff like this can be the coffin to a good friendship," she said lightly, confidently, much stronger than before. "And you mean far too much to me. So I think it's better if we just remain friends."

Clark nodded and folded his hands in his lap. He sighed deeply, then looked up to meet her gaze. "You're right," he whispered, hating every word from his mouth. But he didn't know what else to do, or what else to say. If she wanted it like this, then he couldn't force her. "I don't want to lose you, either."

She smiled weakly and placed her unused brush back in her purse. She didn't tell him, of course, but she found she loved wearing his sweatshirt. It was way too big, but she knew she would still keep it after today. And she knew he wouldn't mind.

"Good," she said finally, grabbing her purse. Already, however, she could feel the knife twisting in her heart, knowing she had stuck it there herself. If only she hadn't come here last night. If only she had listened to her own advice, and not gotten too comfortable.

If only she hadn't fallen in love with him when they first met...

"Well, I'll see you later then," she promised, looking to him with a wide, but uneasy smile. She didn't want to go, her heart unwilling to leave this place, to leave Clark. But it needed to be done, and she knew it was for the best. And she tried desperately to forget his eyes, and the sadness looming deep within them. At this very crucial time in their lives, the right decision had to be made.

She was sure ... almost positively ... that walking out of this loft was the right thing to do.

_Then why does it hurt so much? Even more than I thought it would? _

_Why does my soul feel lost without him?_

With a deep sigh, she turned away from him completely and walked towards the stairs ahead. Each step was difficult, and even more so because of the aroma from the very sweatshirt she wore. His scent made her heart beat just a bit faster, and images from their night together were sure to haunt her for days, months, and even years to come.

But she just couldn't stand to have her heart broken again. No ... not again, and not by him. Her steps became a bit more confident when Lana's face floated in front of her eyes. How many years did he brood over her, waiting for his chance? Even after they broke up, he's still been desperately in love with her. Could he ever just give that up ... five years of loving someone, even when half of those years were from afar?

Could _she_?

Then he called her name.

"Chloe ... " Clark called through the air, forcing her to stop. "Chloe, stop ... please."

She stood idle at the top of the stairs, but remained turned away from him. Looking at him now would only weaken her, in a time when she needed to be strong. For both of them. And had he not gripped her arm, she might have been able to escape without looking back. Perhaps, further, escaped without another word.

But he was there, suddenly, taking her by the arm and turning her around to face him. Sometime during his short trip from the couch to her side, he had found his jeans and slipped them on. Shirtless, he looked unbelievable, and Chloe had to close her eyes against the urge to jump in his arms. None of that would solve anything here, regardless of the desire building stronger every second he gripped her, held her ... and stared at her with that longing in his eyes.

"Clark," she pleaded softly, trying to turn away from him again.

"But what if this doesn't happen to me all the time?" he asked, refusing to let her leave.

She blinked, taken aback by his words. It was not what she thought he would say. In fact, something like, _"please don't go"_ or _"I love you"_ seemed more appropriate if he had any hope of changing her mind. Nevertheless, his choice words didn't hide his true intentions here, not from her, at least. Chloe sensed his reasons for stopping her had more to do more with feeling lonely than love. But before she could say anything to stress this, to stop him before he kept going, he continued.

"And what if," he said, his voice barely a whisper, "it's only happened to me twice. And the first time, I lost her because I couldn't tell her the truth."

Clark stared at her deeply, and she could do nothing but look back at him. He knew she worried about his feelings, about his honesty in situations like this. Actually, despite how often he's hurt her, he's always been truthful, as to spare her any additional heartache. He did always love Lana back then. At least, he thought he did all this time, and it was always the only reason he denied Chloe. But this time, like Pete always begged for him to do, he finally removed the Lana shades he's worn much too long.

Removing them, allowing light to shine through, he suddenly saw the love that's been with him all along. The love that has, year after year, taken him just as he was, with mistakes, demons, super-powers, and everything in between. She wanted him for him, and expected nothing less.

"And the second time," he said, slipping a gentle hand to her cheek, "I'm afraid to let her go, because I don't think I can live without her."

Chloe closed her eyes tightly and bowed her head. He was making this so incredibly difficult. She longed to forget the past, to forget the pain he caused her, and the days he stared endlessly at the brunette next door. How many times did he come to her for advice on how to speak with Lana? How many times did she have to plug the painful hole in heart to be the friend he needed?

Right now, that past was all she could see. The future he offered her, shaded with pain she could not let go.

She backed away then, and looked up into his eyes. Tears streamed down her face. "Last night was a mistake," she reiterated again, stepping back further towards the steps. "Please, Clark ... I can't handle this right now. I really need to go."

Clark stood quietly, watching her as she backed further and further out of his life. In seconds she was down the stairs, the click of her shoes only an echo in the silent loft. He considered running after her again, despite her wishes. Even better, he wanted to sweep her off her feet and take her back to the couch. Back to their spot, to their lovemaking, to the place their souls could harbor with one another. To the place where he felt safe, wanted, and cherished.

To the world where their love conquered all.

But he didn't move. Instead he let her go. Let her go save for the promise deep in his heart.

_I'm going to convince you, Chloe ... _

_We belong together, and I won't stop fighting for you. _

_You'll see ... you'll see my love for you._

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_**tbc **_


	4. Chapter 4

_**The Next Day ... **_

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Monday morning came and Chloe fell into her normal routine. She rose early, took a shower, and recounted the events of her weekend while she dressed. After she left Clark's loft early yesterday morning, she spent the rest of the day engulfed in article writing for the _Daily Planet._ Since classes were over for the semester, she now had free time to pursue her own stories. Although searching the Internet for ideas was usually much easier when she wasn't constantly thinking about a certain farm boy - a farm boy who made passionate love to her a mere ten hours before.

Once Chloe developed a few story ideas, she ended her lazy Sunday on her couch in the living room, staring at the contents of her new home. Her father secured a new job out in California, which was good for him. Yet she missed him, and preferred his presence here to the purchase of an apartment for the summer. Since her job at the _Planet_ was an _unpaid_ internship, her father supplied her the money she would need to survive until college started up again in the fall.

However, she needed his guidance now more than anything. Despite her attempts to forget, Clark remained on her mind throughout the night, most specifically within the freedom of her dreams, where she could relive their passion.

Currently, Chloe waited in line for coffee in a Starbucks on a busy Monday morning in Metropolis, still contemplating her indefinable relationship with Clark. It was silly to think their night meant anything more than it was - just a night of passion to quell their sadness. If that were the case, Chloe shouldn't be envisioning his hands grazing her skin, or feeling the ghostly touch of his sweaty body pressed along her own while they made love. _Breathless kisses, gentle caresses ... his body, hard and beautiful, silky and muscular underneath her fingertips... _

Chloe closed her eyes and shook her head, desperate to will the images from her mind. For a moment, it seemed to work, and she opened her eyes to look up at the bright, blue sky above. The sun was already hot this morning, turning the cool air of dawn into the stifling humidity that accompanied an average summer day in Metropolis. Cars honked at each other, followed by screams of mild road rage because the congestion of traffic had grown. Next to her, conversations from fellow coffee drinkers filtered into her attention, and for the next five minutes she heard the conversation between two men. Disturbingly, the taller man confessed his ability to cheat on his wife, and his wife's apparent ignorance to his sin.

A pang of guilt wavered through her heart. Clark and Lana have been separated for over a month now. Yet sleeping with him so soon felt wrong, distasteful even. Maybe, deep down, she knew she had taken advantage of him. And maybe he did the same with her.

Regardless, it gave her a new reason to push him away. It was too soon - for both of them.

Once she bought her hazelnut latte, Chloe walked the next few blocks down to the _Daily Planet._ Her current problems with Clark fell away when she approached the huge, iconic building. She had work to do, a career to chase after and define. Like every Monday, she felt a new sense of pride and accomplishment with what she was doing with her life.

And, like every Monday morning, walking into the _Daily Planet_ meant walking into a disaster zone. People seemed to be everywhere, and doing everything to catch up on the weekend news. Though the _Planet_ ran everyday, big name reporters made the extra effort to publish their follow-up stories to big events from the weekend as soon as possible. It was essential to beat out what little competition the paper had, if only to remind the city of Metropolis of the newspaper's supremacy.

Chloe, however, didn't have that problem. Doing wedding announcements and obituaries rarely, if at all, led to chaotic mornings. She did write the wedding announcement for a State Senator once, which aroused a little attention.

She took a sip of her coffee and walked further into the lobby. Looking up, she saw a few of those big name reporters racing around upstairs through the windows. _One day, _she promised to herself ... _one day, that'll be me._

With a chime of certainty, Clark's face floated in front of her eyes. And she sensed her lonely days at the _Planet_ wouldn't last too much longer.

She took the elevator down to the bottom floor. The steps of a normal day came back into rhythm, and within moments she appeared at the receptionist desk to the basement. It was barely half the size of the huge receptionist area on the main floor, but the _Planet_ set someone there during business hours to assist visitors. Since Chloe did many of the wedding announcements and obits, many visitors often came to her in order to give her their appropriate information.

The young woman behind the desk smiled as Chloe walked up. "Hey, Sullivan ... boss wants to see you."

Chloe rolled her eyes and took another regenerative sip. "I swear, that man can't tell the difference between a fax machine and a microwave."

"It sounded pretty urgent," the woman replied optimistically.

The truth was, her boss was an older gentlemen determined to keep modern technology out of his office. Or, if he did need it, he called on a _woman _to come and do it for him, because faxing and copying important papers was woman's work. Unfortunately, because he liked Chloe above the rest, she became his go-to woman for such mindless tasks. She had a feeling from the urgency in his message that she might be spending the entire day standing over a copy machine.

Of their own volition, thoughts of Clark filtered into her mind again. Her heart would give anything to see him, to be with him. Shamefully, thoughts of their night came into focus, and she distantly considered calling in sick and driving back to the Kent Farm for the day. Maybe they could talk a little more, and maybe she could spend the day watching movies, or swimming in Crater Lake with him.

_And maybe they would spend the day hidden in the fields, with just a picnic basket, and their desire. They could make love endlessly in the grass, giving into what both still want - still crave. _

"Chloe, he's waiting for you," the woman insisted, gesturing towards the office door behind them.

She turned around and saw her boss standing anxiously at his door. He was a short man, overweight, and wore glasses with frames much too large for his face. Yet he had a biting tongue for criticism, and Chloe often had to walk away after he berated her to prevent herself from crying. Very few can do that to her, but he was one. Because of his constant criticism, and because of his often tendency to slip her story leads on the _'Q.T.'_, Chloe felt he really was trying to help her become a better reporter.

But some days it was hard to tell.

"Ms. Sullivan?" he beckoned irritably. "Coming?"

Chloe breathed in deeply and walked towards him, praying it would go well.

However, ten minutes later she walked out of his office with a new story to pursue, along with a fresh brand of criticism to add to her growing collection. Not to mention an entire day's worth of copying and faxing information to varying companies around the city. It was the price to pay for a good story to impress the editors upstairs, and Chloe was more than happy to oblige - anything to get her out of this basement. Exchanging tedious work for a story lead was a trade she would make every time.

"Did it go well?" the woman asked from behind the desk.

Chloe smiled and looked down at the coffee cup in her hand. "If he didn't give me a fresh story, I think I'd be upset with him for making my coffee cold."

The woman laughed lightly, and Chloe smiled wider before turning towards the glass doors just a little ahead of her. She had work to do now, and thoughts of Clark faded from her mind immediately. Other things needed her attention, and frankly she was looking forward to a day without thinking about him every minute. If she wanted to convince herself that a relationship with him was futile, she would need more days like this, and more days without him completely.

But fate wasn't going to let go.

Lois stormed through the glass doors anxiously, and her face lit up when she saw Chloe walking towards her. "Chlo, I've been looking for you," she said matter-of-factly, her eyes glowing with intrigue. "Where have you been?"

Chloe smirked. "Hmm, let me guess. There was a recall on your favorite candy bar, and you want to investigate?"

Lois looked at her seriously. "No, of course not. And don't you dare joke about something like that."

"Sorry," Chloe mused, taking another sip of her coffee. She scrunched her face immediately and threw it in the wastebasket a few feet away. "I like coffee, but not in sub zero temperature."

Lois grabbed her wrist lightly, forcing Chloe to look at her. "Chloe, aren't you going to tell me?"

Chloe raised her eyebrows in confusion. "About the story? Well, he just gave it to me. I guess I could've told you sooner, but that would have required you to actually be in the meeting with me. And since he only wanted to talk to me ... "

"No, not that," Lois interrupted hastily, her curiosity growing. "I mean this weekend. Why didn't you tell me you want out on a date?"

Chloe's cheeks blushed immediately, and she had to fight the urgency to cover her face with her hands. Instead she looked away and tried to pretend Lois couldn't tell anything from her expression. "Lois, I really don't know what you're talking about," she insisted, trying to walk away.

But Lois tugged on her arm, preventing her from leaving. "Chloe, come on. This is me; Lois - the person you tell practically everything to, even if it's to admit your misplaced love for an ignorant farm boy."

Chloe, however, had no wish to tell anyone anything. As far as she was concerned, Saturday night was a mistake and didn't happen. The last thing she needed was Lois' criticism, or, worse yet, her teasing. No telling what Lois would say if she found out her cousin slept with Clark Kent, the man of her cousin's dreams. Chloe already felt ashamed, and Lois' judgment would only make matters worse.

"There's nothing to tell, because nothing happened," Chloe reiterated.

Lois gazed at her skeptically. "Really?"

"Yes, really," she answered, feeling a bit uneasy by her cousin's confidence. "The only men I saw the entire weekend were Patrick Swayze and George Clooney, and they weren't even real."

"Okay," Lois said, as if conceding to her cousin's insistence. Yet the flare in her eyes told Chloe she hadn't given up, and she replied in the next breath, "Well, then, I guess you'll have to explain something to me."

Chloe felt her body go cold. "What?"

Lois grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the glass doors leading into the huge office where her desk was located. Chloe kept her eyes on Lois, utterly confused by what was happening. She tried desperately to make sense of her cousin's odd sense of intuition, and wondered if she mistakenly placed a sign on her forehead with the words, _"Yes, I had sex over the weekend. And three times, I might add."_

However, Lois looked out into the office and refused to match her stare, apparently taken by something extraordinary. Curious, Chloe turned to see for herself.

And felt her mouth drop open in awe.

Dozens and dozens of white and red roses, both as bouquets and nestled in vases, covered her entire desk - at least where her desk should be. Chloe even had trouble finding the edge of it, as every inch was used to accommodate the vast amount of beautiful flowers. Many drooped over the side, like ivy clinging along the side of an old building. Their decoration brightened the mundane gray walls of the office space, giving the area a strange sense of life. But that surge of life didn't compare to the sun glowing deep within Chloe, despite her previous pledge to keep her relationship with Clark as purely platonic.

Right now, she had a difficult time remembering her decision under the warmth of Clark's over zealous display of love.

_Love ... love or loneliness?_

_Can I really tell the difference? Can he?_

Whatever the true reason for his gesture, he certainly was making an excellent case for himself, and their budding romance.

There were so many flowers that it was impossible not to notice them. Pure white and passion red attracts attention in any venue, even in the middle of a busy newspaper office. Very few walked by without stopping to observe the roses strewn across her desk. And it was no wonder, because Chloe couldn't believe the breathtaking, rich color painted carefully into each petal. They looked like flowers drawn by a landscape artist, one who took the time to see to every detail, every line and curve.

Some people, however, didn't just pass by with a curious glance, but stopped and stared, apparently awed by the beautiful sea of red mixed with white. Even through the glass doors, she could hear people whispering, faces drawn to the overwhelming exhibit.

_Probably wondering why those flowers were on my desk ... on a desk of someone who hasn't had a date in almost a year. _

_Of course ... college, unpaid internships, and demanding alien friends were bound to make it impossible for anyone to have a social life._

Lois pushed Chloe through the glass doors once she realized her cousin wasn't going to enter by herself. Many co-workers turned to look at them as they entered, their eyes centered particularly on Chloe. Her cheeks flushed a deep red, much richer than the very flowers causing her embarrassment. She couldn't believe Clark had done something like this, especially after she made the state of their relationship relatively clear with him the day before - _this was fun, but a mistake_.

"So, Chlo, do you really want me to believe you sent these flowers to yourself?" Lois asked, amused.

Chloe stepped up to her desk and walked around to her chair, careful of her footing to ensure she didn't crush one of the flowers below her feet. Commotion in the office continued, though quite a few of her fellow coworkers remained silent, waiting patiently for her reaction. At the moment, the best she could give them was shock and disbelief, as Chloe considered the true possibility that her dreams from the night before had yet to subside. If she closed her eyes for a long moment and let the world settle around her, she might open them and find the darkness of her bedroom rather than the curious stares from _Daily Planet_ employees.

But grazing her fingertips across the rose petals ensured her that this was all very real.

"Come on, Chloe, spill it. What happened this weekend?" Lois pressed.

Chloe caught a glimpse of a white card amongst the sea of red and white. It was nestled in the bouquet closest to her, and she reached for it with a nervous hand. "I really have no idea why these were sent," she whispered genuinely.

Lois appeared behind her and glanced over her shoulder. "I'd hate to see how many flowers you would get if you actually went out with someone."

Chloe glanced to her cousin with a guarded smile. "So someone gave me flowers. Must be a crush or something," she insisted easily.

"No, this isn't some secret admirer sending flowers. This is an obsessed stalker sending a garden."

"Lois, this is just a nice gesture," she replied, feeling the need to defend Clark, despite how embarrassed she felt. And despite the urgency she had to find him and shove a piece of kryptonite up his butt. Assuming, of course, that this was indeed from her weekend lover. _Weekend former lover. Former, definitely former. No longer happening._

The small card in her hand was the only way to know for sure. Chloe turned it over in her hand and found the opening to the envelope. She flipped it up and pulled out the white card, which was blank on the back. Curious as always, Lois continued to glance over her shoulder with invested interest, certain she would find something plausible to support her suspicion of Chloe's wild weekend.

Instinctively, Chloe pulled the card closer to her body and flipped it to the front. The words immediately silenced her, beckoned her, and challenged her. Further, the words stilled her heart, as if spoken by the very man who wrote them. Glowing with affection, Chloe swallowed hard and read the note through again. And again. Then again, once more.

The card read simply as follows:

_Of all the mistakes I've made ... you're my favorite. XOXO_

_Truly and Affectionately Yours -- _

Lois read it through a couple of times, hoping to find a clue in the words somewhere. However, nothing seemed to pop out, and no arrangement of any letters gave her any type of hidden meaning. Instead, the note was pure and simple, woven carefully with love, and Chloe was clearly emotional from it. Only then did Lois entertain the idea that Chloe's weekend getaway wasn't just with any guy - it was with _the _guy, the one every woman waits anxiously to meet. And though Lois had her suspicions of who it might be, she decided to keep her theories to herself.

"Must have been some weekend," Lois whispered.

Chloe shrugged, and tried desperately to keep the image of apathy. "It was nothing ... no unexpected fireworks to speak of."

Lois smiled. "Hmm. But I do notice the parade."

Chloe was about to unleash one of her timely, sarcastic remarks, when someone suddenly appeared next to them. _Lana_.

That was the last person Chloe expected to see standing with them, and her friend's presence made her blood pulse frantically through her veins.

_Why Lana? Why now? _Chloe though to herself, unable to believe this was happening right now, and to her. _I doubt Lana wants to hear about my weekend. _

She cringed at the thought, though it brought a twinge of satisfaction in her chest. Regardless of their past feelings, Clark has always been an issue between Lana and Chloe. And before she could help it, Chloe began to role play the fake conversation in her head.

_You did what? - Well, Clark and I ... we kind of had ... mind-blowing sex over the weekend. But it was nothing ... really._

_It meant nothing,_ Chloe reminded herself, though her heart spoke something entirely different

"Flowers?" Lana asked, teasing. "What have you been keeping from us, Chloe?"

"Nothing," Chloe insisted quickly, slightly exasperated. She stuck the note in her top, right hand desk drawer and slammed it shut. "There's nothing to say. You two will just have to find something else to fill your gossip column."

Lois laughed. "You know, Lana, I think you're right. I wonder how long this has been going on."

"This?" Chloe asked, her eyes like fire as she turned to her cousin. The exasperation had evolved promptly into anger now, and she really had no idea why she was taking this so personally. Their teasing, though all in good fun, was coming off offensive.

And Chloe suddenly, finally discovered how much the past weekend actually meant to her.

"There is no _this. _For the past year, I have done nothing but go to college and work at the _Planet_, and both require boatloads of my time. A relationship right now will just make the entire pyramid of my life crumble like a house of cards."

Lana, however, wasn't buying one word of her friend's insistence. Yet she heard her pleas, hidden under the tone of her voice. "Okay, if that's what you say."

Chloe looked to both Lois and Lana. "It's what I say," she replied harshly. "Seriously, girls, these flowers are just ... from a friend. That's all."

Lois noticed her cousin's hesitation when she tried to characterize the man who sent the flowers to her. In all likelihood, something did happen over the weekend, but Chloe still was, when it came right down to it, a Lane. And Lanes were known for their stubborn streaks. Pressing the issue would only anger Chloe more, and lengthen the amount of time she would take to finally tell Lois everything. Chloe always did, eventually.

So, if she ever hoped to hear the full story, Lois decided to drop the issue. For now.

"Fine, we'll stop harassing you," Lois promised, though secretly deciding to discover Clark's whereabouts this past weekend. "But I will find out sooner or later."

Chloe smirked. "Well, when you do, let me know. I always love a good bedtime story."

Lois rolled her eyes and tugged on Lana's sleeve. "Come on, let's leave Tinker bell with her fairy dust for awhile. Maybe when we return for lunch, she'll have found the line between fantasy and reality."

Chloe just sighed annoyingly, deciding to keep quiet. Another word might hurt her case.

However, before Lana let Lois pull her away completely, she inched closer to Chloe, a serious expression drawn on her face. Clearly something big happened to Chloe over the last few days, and teasing her wasn't the best course of action. Lana knew she ignored Chloe most of the past year, and mainly because her own soap opera unraveled like a coil all around her. But right now Lana wanted to be the devoted, listening friend, sensing Chloe needed one. Under her friend's facade of apathy and frustration, Lana could see a different shade of emotion – almost like fear. Fear grown from _the something_ that happened this weekend, and _the something_ that took her by surprise

_Something _Chloe didn't understand completely, so awed by its depth, by its power.

And Lana just wanted to help.

"Seriously, Chloe, if you want to talk about it, whatever it might be, we're both here for you," Lana reminded her.

_You might not be after you hear I slept with Clark. _"Thanks," Chloe whispered, hiding her thoughts behind a soft smile.

Lana smiled in return and looked to Lois, gesturing that they should leave. Lois hesitated only slightly before giving in. She really didn't want to leave without knowing the reason why so many flowers were on her cousin's desk, even though she knew it was for the best. But what could she do? Her entire life she's been protective of Chloe. When Clark Kent broke her heart a dozen times in high school, Lois' vow to be ruler over her cousin's love life was cast in stone.

Chloe was a great reporter, valedictorian of her high school class. But when it came to love, to Clark Kent in particular, she flunked every time.

And just like Lana, the Smallville High boys' club also scathed Chloe, though not quite as often. More than half of those she dated turned out to be meteor freaks. If pressed to investigate, Lois was sure to discover Clark ran with the same crowd, changed by the meteor shower so long ago.

As Lois and Lana drew closer to the glass doors leading out into the lobby, Lois turned back to Chloe, letting her thoughts of Clark fade for now. "Still meeting for lunch, right?"

"If I don't get sucked into the fax machine," Chloe chided.

"Great. See you then."

Chloe watched as her two best friends were swallowed up into the lobby beyond. Her thoughts replayed the conversation over again, just as her eyes gazed over the vases of flowers standing proudly on her desk. Clark made a statement today, and the morning wasn't even over yet. With only two cups of coffee inside of her so far, she didn't know if she could handle this right now. Regardless, Clark's gesture made his feelings clear - Saturday night meant something to him.

Chloe sighed and straightened the sides of her skirt nervously. The real question was ... what had that night meant to her? If anything?

Mingled among the flowers sat the stacks of files her boss needed faxed as soon as possible. Chloe sighed and picked them up, thankful for the mundane task for once. It would give her some uninterrupted moments to think a little more thoroughly about her time with Clark. She needed to sort her feelings out, despite what she told him over the weekend - _this was fun, but a mistake ... _

_A mistake ... was it a mistake? _

_Did it mean anything to me?_

Chloe looked over to the vacant fax and copy room on the far side. The room offered her solace, and she walked to it with a hurry in her step. Her thoughts from before, the questions she asked herself, continued to tumble in her mind like clothes in a dryer. Complete silence was exactly what she needed right now, save for the buzz from the fax machine. She didn't want any more friends trying to threaten information out of her, or even the source of her heart's longing burn - Clark himself.

She just wanted to be alone with her thoughts.

A few people continued to stare as she walked by them, still awed by the sight of her flowers. She ignored them, however, and continued towards her destination, unwilling to give them anything. She hardly understood any of this herself. Everything was so jumbled up right now, and no matter how hard she tried to stop it, sleeping with Clark pulled at the foundation of the pyramid she's built in her life. Suddenly, nothing made sense, and her mind was hurrying to catch up.

Rather, her heart was trying to understand what this pang in her chest really meant … _did she really love him? Had she ever?_

Chloe entered the room and closed the door immediately. The fax and copy machine were a unit all in one, and reached four feet in height. It sat at the back wall against the windows looking out into the courtyard, now vacant due to the time of day. But break time was only a few minutes away, and soon the courtyard would be filled to capacity with smokers and coffee drinkers, as well as workers craving some fresh air.

In the meantime, she was going to fax. She placed the first paper in the slot at the top, and then dialed in the number on the keypad. In moments the first page was being faxed to its destination and the process was loud enough that she neglected to hear the room's door open behind her. It cracked only a little, just enough to allow entry, but not enough to announce a new presence. Silence lingered as Chloe searched left and right for the small water cooler, feeling her mouth grow suddenly dry due to the humidity in the room.

Then someone spoke behind her.

"Did you like the flowers?"

Chloe swiveled around immediately on her heels, frightened by the voice. She expected to see a mass murderer, or worse, her boss scrutinizing her faxing routine. But instead she saw Clark standing quietly in the doorway, wearing jeans and a white T-shirt that clung to his upper body in all the right places. He looked just as handsome as she remembered days before, and despite her best efforts, images of their weekend passion returned, flickering in her mind like an old TV.

And rather than fear, she now felt something else entirely. Something she tried desperately to suppress.

_Desire._

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_tbc _


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: This section is probably a soft M. :-)_

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Chloe turned her eyes away from him, knowing she could deny him easier if she wasn't looking at him. Even the most willful woman in the world would find it difficult to be strong while looking at Clark - he was gorgeous. She always thought so during high school, and now, with him only a year older, he looked even more beautiful. Time, as well as heartache, developed him into a more seasoned man. He had life behind his eyes now, as well as a shade of confidence he didn't have when they first met years ago.

She fiddled with the next page on her stack. "I liked them," she admitted, smirking a little. "Though I wonder what section of the farm your mother allowed you to sell so you could purchase such beautiful flowers."

Clark smiled and walked further into the room. He closed the door behind them, forcing Chloe to look up as he approached her. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized she was suddenly enclosed in a room with him, alone. No windows looked out into the office area next door to them, so the courtyard seen through the windows behind her would have to keep her desire in check. The last thing either needed right now was to have sex, especially when they were still unsure of their feelings and the reasons why it happened.

Well, she wanted to be mindful anyway. Lovemaking was not a show for everyone to see, particularly by coworkers taking a mid-morning break.

_Why did she start thinking about making love to him again? _

"It was nothing like that," Clark reassured, walking closer.

Chloe stiffened a little, unwilling to let her body weaken at all while he was here. "Please tell me you didn't accidentally kick up some red kryptonite while you were driving Mr. John Deere around in the back forty, and you've been Kal during the past few days. I didn't hear any reports on the news of a red glowing phantom robbing banks, but it's still early."

Clark shook his head and stopped in front of her. He dropped his arms to his sides, and continued to stare helplessly into her face. Standing only inches from her body, he could already feel the heat in his veins starting to boil with desire. No one else aroused this kind of heat inside of him - nothing this intense, or severe. Something inside of him craved her, as if being inside her was the only way he could ever feel at peace. Lost in a year of pain and heartache, finding peace in someone else came as a surprise. He felt shocked he found peace at all, which probably explained the reason for his visit today - he needed her, and he didn't want to let her go.

"Actually, I took a bullet for a florist," Clark replied seriously. Chloe glanced to him curiously, almost convinced of his words. Then he smiled with amusement, unable to draw out his sarcastic lie any further. "No, I'm joking. I really did help a florist, but I saved his business from being robbed."

Chloe smirked. "Robbing a floral shop? Did the robber have a poor attendance while attending Burglary Class 101?"

He shrugged, stepping up a little closer to her as he did. "I think he was just a young kid, first time offense."

Chloe looked down from Clark, remembering her vow to keep her eyes off him. He inched closer to her every second they spoke, and his close proximity made it difficult to forget the hours they spent in bed. Since Saturday night, she's tried to forget his smell, his touch, his skin ... remembering all of it was a one time deal, and nothing else. They came to each other for comfort that night, and each received plenty after each and every time they made love. The experience did make her feel much better about the conversation she had with Lex a few weeks ago - the reason she even came to Clark at all over the weekend. He, too, had his emotional struggles after he learned of Lex and Lana's new relationship, prompting his desire for Chloe in return.

Strangely, the reasons for their conversation on Saturday, and the reasons they searched for solace in each other's touch, had vanished between then and now. She could barely summon the feelings of unworthiness that lead her to Clark's barn that night. With a touch of his hand and kiss of his lips, he wiped away all of her insecurities. And rather than dwell on the words of a maniac billionaire, she now thought only about the man who brought her affection when she needed it the most.

By the eyes currently boring into her petite form, Chloe knew the affection had morphed into something entirely different, and far more serious. The flowers covering her desk now contained a whole new meaning - the night didn't mean _something_ to Clark. It meant _everything_ to him.

"Well, they were nice, thank you," Chloe whispered. She placed a page into the fax machine and hit the appropriate buttons to send it, trying hard to forget Clark's presence. The heat under her skin, and the tingle between her legs made the latter simply impossible, no matter how hard she concentrated on the fax machine. He was just too close for her body not to react.

"You're welcome," he said softly. Clark watched her shift towards the fax machine, keeping her back to him at all costs. Her eyes were glued to the pages in her hands, determined not to look at him for an extended amount of time. He, on the other hand, couldn't look away from her beauty. She could be wearing sweats, and she would still look breathtaking to him. He wondered why it took him so long to notice her - she looked so amazing. No doubt his case of blindness came about because of his previous infatuation with another.

However, Clark knew he would never make the same mistake again.

Chloe cleared her throat. "You know you didn't have to."

"What, send flowers?" he asked casually, allowing his eyes to drift down the line of her back. He blushed profusely when his gaze stopped at her backside, and before he could help it, his vision turned to X-ray. Of course, though he saw virtually every section of her the other night, once wasn't enough. The crimson color in his cheeks deepened when he remembered how his hands moved and squeezed her bottom when they made love, his intentions driven purely by need.

Finally she turned to him, and he glanced up instantly to match her gaze. His face beamed with embarrassment and guilt, as if Chloe had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. He smiled weakly, trying desperately to hide what he had just done. But Chloe's eyes glazed over with amusement when she suddenly realized the source of his blush, causing her heart to sing with joy. _I guess he is attracted to me, huh? _

After the other night, she hoped he would be attracted to her by now. Past memories always seemed to prove otherwise. Yet for the first time Chloe had a night full of reasons to believe he reacted to her in the same way he would with any woman.

By the very intensity of his lovemaking, Chloe sensed he was more attracted to her than either previously thought.

Rather than point out his ogling, she merely continued with the conversation. Flirting with him right now would not be the best course of action, especially when she was trying to convince both of them of the futility of any romantic relationship that might surface between them.

"It wasn't necessary," she insisted, glancing up into his eyes.

He grimaced. "Chloe, Saturday night truly meant something to me."

Chloe sighed and turned away, fighting the blaze of fire in her heart. How long had she waited for him to say something like that? Too long, way too long. And now, after a messy night of sex to solve their personal problems, he suddenly wanted to be with her. In her mind, none of it was that easy. She had gone too long, and had been hurt far too often by his carelessness in the past to believe him. Despite the flowers, and despite his puppy-dog face, Chloe couldn't let go of the possible outcome once all of this was finally over - he would hurt her, once again. And it was likely she wouldn't survive the heartache this time around.

"I know you think it did," she replied, facing him. "But both of us know why we ... _let go_ the other night. I admit that I needed you, and I thank you for loving me. But past experience has taught us that relationship woes separate us every time one of us tries to up the ante in our friendship. I just don't think I can lose you again."

Clark's features turned affectionate, and he stepped closer to her. "You won't lose me."

Chloe swallowed hard. She tried to put more space between them, but the fax machine nudging into her lower back refused to give her any more wiggle room. Her mind screamed to push him away, but her body longed to feel him against her once more.

"I just don't think a relationship is a good idea," she replied, struggling to keep a picture of sanity.

He reached a hand over to her cheek, caressed it gently. Regardless of her attempts to keep him at arms' length, Clark could see the emotional war raging inside of her. Her mind wanted him to go away, to leave before this entire situation became worse. Yet her heart, her soul, and her body trembled, craving his touch. Clearly, physical attraction played a role here, and he would be lying if he said being with her didn't solve his loneliness. But all of it ... it was so much more than that. He wanted her, and every ounce of his need came from a love he never knew existed before Saturday night.

"Can you really turn away from me?" he asked, cupping her cheek. "Chloe, I haven't stopped thinking about you since you left that morning. I've barely been able to do my work on the farm. You're all I think about now ... what we did together, what we created when we -," he pleaded, stopping for a moment to gather his courage.

He glanced away from her to hide his frailty, knowing he had to be strong for both of them. His heart throbbed in his chest, begging him to continue. If he wanted her at all, he had to finish his thought.

Her skin radiated against his palm with warmth, giving him strength to look up from the floor and face her. Face what all of this truly meant. "We made love, Chloe. We didn't just have sex the other night. We created love. I've never done that before, with anyone. With Lana, it was ... sex, nothing else. I didn't know what making love really felt like until ... until I made it with you."

Chloe closed her eyes tight, wishing he wasn't here. Why was he saying these things? Why was he making this so difficult? Could she believe him? Could she allow herself to love him again?

_Why was she denying him?_

Clark sensed the struggle in her heart, and without giving her one more second to dwell, he cupped her face with both hands and kissed her.

He wanted to wipe away her reservations, and let her see the true intentions laced within the promise of his lips. Yet for a torturous amount of time, Chloe refused to respond to him at all, hesitant to give him anything more than the night they shared. After the first few seconds of their kiss, Clark started to wonder if his attempts to convince her otherwise were futile. She had a stubborn streak a mile long, especially when it counted the most. If she didn't want to give in, she wouldn't.

However, the moment his worries streaked across his mind, their lips began to move in harmony. The hesitancy in her kiss had vanished, leaving only the desire she longed to release. His entire body trembled when her hands glided up his chest, and he pressed into her insistently, pinning her to the fax machine behind them. She moaned deeply and moved a hand behind his neck, increasing the intensity of the kiss with each desperate plea of passion.

Clark dropped his arms to her waist and wrapped them around her tightly, pulling her snugly against him. He moaned a little in disappointment when she pulled away from his lips, just enough to catch her breath. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but she didn't let it form any further before she leaned in and kissed him again. This time, the kiss deepened immediately, and Clark actually heard himself whimper when her tongue slid along his lips, craving entry. Something snapped between them - sometime after they kissed and before he felt the swipe of her tongue across his own.

This was no longer Clark trying to convince her of his love. This moment had turned into a passionate escape, a way for both to give into the desire that has plagued them since their night together. And Clark realized he wouldn't be leaving here until they had gone all the way.

Lost in her smell, in her touch, Clark lowered his lips to her neck and nibbled delicately, smiling a little every time she released a tiny sigh of pleasure. His mind began to play the entire forthcoming scene in his head - should he throw her on the fax machine and just take her? _A little rough, _he thought, blushing. _Perhaps the floor, or against the wall maybe?_ Clark blushed even further when he realized they had yet made love in the latter position - standing up. His pulse ran frantically through his body with just the idea alone, and his hands dropped anxiously to the clasp of her skirt.

But when his lips moved to her shoulder, Clark caught a glimpse of the courtyard through the window. He watched helplessly as people started filing into it, each carrying either a cigarette or cup of coffee in their hands, apparently on break. Disgust settled in his stomach like a lead weight, and he lifted his head to look at Chloe, giving her a regretful stare. Regardless of the sudden halt in their passion, he saw desire still burning in her eyes, her need for him spoken within the symphony of her raspy breaths. _She needed him._

Chloe knew the reason why he stopped, and remembered the courtyard's presence was supposed to stop anything from going too far.

Yet every ounce of her body yearned for Clark. Right here, right now ... she wanted him, regardless of her previous reservations. This would be their last time, of course. It had to be, because Chloe knew a relationship between them, despite Clark's wish for more, would not last long. But this ... _this lovemaking_ ... she could give into it one more time, if only to take the experience with her wherever she goes. _To remember what we shared in a fortnight of pain, and the comfort we gave each other when we needed it the most. Because it was true ... best friends make great lovers. _

Clark studied her expression, and realized neither was ready to give up this chance to be together. He swallowed hard and glanced around the room for anything to help them make this work. Would anyone see them on the floor? Maybe if they moved the fax machine just out of sight, he could lay her on top of it without giving every Daily Planet employee a free erotic show. He did see a counter on the other side of the room, which, though sturdy, gave them little room to ... _maneuver_. But, as it was out of the window's direct line of sight, it might be their best chance.

Then Chloe tugged urgently on his arms. He looked to her, and she gestured to the left wall just over his shoulder. "Over there," she whispered.

He blinked with question, but turned around to see the object of her attention. Even with his super vision, it took him an extra few seconds to notice a door camouflaged by the white, plain wall. He X-rayed it immediately, and found a small room on the other side - the stock room. A smile lingered on his lips when he glanced back to her, and she gripped his arms insistently, pleading with her eyes for him to take the next step.

Without another moment's hesitation, Clark grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the door. He opened it and urged her inside, just as he did a half turn to ensure no one saw them. The employees taking their break just outside the window didn't notice them at all, nor their hasty escape to the stock room closet. If all this worked as planned, they could leave without arousing anyone's suspicion.

Chloe shivered in anticipation as she watched Clark do a quick check of the surrounding area. Hopefully no one would try to look for her, mainly her boss. She could hardly imagine the expression on his face if he caught her with Clark in the stock room having sex. Disappointment probably wouldn't cover his emotion. Certainly anger would shoot like fire out of his eyes and ears, just like those characters on the Bugs Bunny cartoons she watched when she was a child. Yet taking the chance made the situation much more thrilling, and one she would remember for a long time.

_Last tumble in the sack with Clark Kent ... yes, it should be memorable._

Seconds after his scan of the offices and courtyard, Clark slipped into the stock room and closed the door behind him. He looked to Chloe, who stood motionless against the left wall, waiting. The stock room was incredibly small, with only a few metal racks to hold all of the office supplies for the bottom floor. An old sink jutted out from the wall next to Chloe, it's time of usage long gone. He distantly wondered if this space used to be a janitor's closet, but the conclusion faded immediately from his brain when his attention drew back to the beautiful woman standing patiently in front of him.

And like a bullet, he walked up to her swiftly, pinned her against the wall, and kissed her. The floodgates had opened inside of him, by the flare of desire in Chloe's eyes and within the insistence of her touch. Her hands skated down his chest with purpose, stopping only at the hem of his T-shirt so she could pull it off of him. Another smile tugged on his lips, loving this new, demanding side of Chloe. He gave into her immediately, and lifted his arms so she could remove his T-shirt completely and throw it to the side.

Clark kissed her lips sweetly, moved to her cheek, and finally slid down to her neck, knowing he could kiss her skin for eternity. The feeling rose quickly in his chest, and before he could stop himself, he mumbled huskily, "You taste amazing."

Chloe closed her eyes and let her head drop to the wall behind her. The nibbles along her neck were already making her knees a bit weak, not to mention the sudden presence of his hands. Without either noticing, the buttons of her suit jacket had been unclasped, and she wondered if he had used super speed somewhere in the midst of their passion. When she felt him pushing her jacket off her shoulders, she realized she didn't care all that much. Only his hands mattered ... only his kisses, the press of his body, and his _need_ to be with her.

And the world, for just a split second, seemed perfect.

Another whimper escaped her lips when he had succeeded in opening her blouse. She lifted her head and watched his hands glide along her stomach. Urgency filtered through her veins, and she slid her hands from his chest down to his jeans. She smiled wryly when she heard him mumble _'please,' - _a reaction she didn't necessarily expect to hear from Clark Kent, and courtesy of something she did. Her smile dimmed a little, however, when she began to hastily unbuckle his belt, wondering why he ever chose to wear such a difficult accessory today. Belts, of course, made him look even sexier, and she loved how they looked on him. Yet, with a mind clouded in sexual desire, unbuckling a belt was as complicated as solving the Rubic's Cube.

Finally it came undone, and the brass button on his jeans fell away instantly with a simple grip and tug of her fingers. Chloe felt a twinge of excitement course through her body when she finally unzipped his jeans, and she blushed furiously at the sight of his _full_, blue boxer shorts. Her hands leisurely traced the line of his waist, purposely avoiding the main attraction by merely millimeters of space, forcing him to groan helplessly against her throat. The breath in her lungs tightened when his hands suddenly cupped her bra-covered breasts, his touch a counter action to the delicate trace of her fingertips on his skin.

She hummed desperately into his shoulder when his thumbs found her hardened nipples. Then he slid his lips down to her chest and buried his breath within the cave of her cleavage. His hands fell to the curve of her ass and gripped it roughly, earning him another whimper of delight mumbled in his hair. Clark felt his muscles tense the moment her hands slipped inside of his jeans, and he answered her by hastily hiking up her skirt, certain it would take too much time to remove it completely. The deep burn of his desire nestled tight in his groin told him he had little time to waste on foreplay.

Chloe felt the last bit of her control seeping out of the pores in her skin with every one of his kisses, and with every gentle caress of his skillful hands. Everything she did now was a reaction to how Clark made her feel. So when his hands gripped her ass, she whimpered low in her throat and lowered her lips to his shoulder, countering the tingle in her spine with a bite to his skin. Of course, her teeth left no mark, but she continued to kiss and nibble all the way up to his neck, and smiled wide when she heard his soft moan.

His skin felt silky and smooth underneath her fingertips, supporting her believe of his true godliness. No one on earth has ever looked or felt as magnificent as Clark Kent, making him an eloquent treasure. Chloe glided her hands to his back, unconsciously memorizing every curve and contour of his body. Part of her was certain this would be their last time, so the reason to memorize him might stem from her need to remember him, using him as the standard future lovers would have to live up to. Yet her fingers caressed with a flavor of ownership rather than a need to remember, because in her heart, regardless of the insecurities plunging through her mind, she memorized him for the lovemaking still yet to come.

So engrossed in her touch, Clark didn't notice his jeans had fallen, pooling at his ankles. He looked down through the millimeter of space between their bodies, and watched Chloe's soft hands run along his waist. Suddenly his boxers followed suite, falling and pooling on top of his jeans. The sight spurred desperation deep inside of him, more fulfilling and wonderful than anything he had ever felt before. He blinked once, twice, then looked up into Chloe's eyes to reassure both of them still wanted this to happen.

Their mutual need for one another had not deflated in the least.

With renewed certainty, he picked Chloe up in his arms. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist when he did so. Clark steadied her against the wall, using it to help balance them as he reached up and kissed her lips passionately. Her hands gripped his shoulders hard, more out of desperation rather than a fear of falling. His lips descended down her cheek, to her chin, her jaw, and finally ended at the graceful hollow of her neck, content to keep his lips fastened there throughout the duration of their lovemaking. Soft, delicate hands drifted into his hair, and he smiled when she leaned her head back to the wall, surrendering to him completely.

Chloe moaned in short gasps when smooth fingers found the waistband of her panties, slipping carefully underneath. She dropped her legs from his waist just enough for him to remove the offending piece of clothing. Once her panties were gone, she returned her legs to his waist, hugging his midsection insistently as the last barrier between them had finally been removed. Impulsively, her hands fisted his hair and her heart pounded rapidly in her chest, anticipating the final stages of their frantic mating. The thought of having Clark inside her again sent explosive chills through every nerve ending in her body. And in the back of her mind, between chaos and control, she wondered if she could possibly walk away from him again.

_Was she strong enough to do what neither could? Was she strong enough to spare both of them the heartache certain to come with a relationship?_

_Or was this ... all of this, the feel of his body, his hands, his heart beating in rhythm with her own ... was giving this up too much to ask? Could they truly survive without loving each other?_

Clark buried his face deeply in the curve of her shoulder, readying himself for the pleasure to come. He could already feel Chloe shuddering underneath him, her body alive, yearning for sexual release. His breaths turned shallow, raspy as he drew closer and closer to the warmth awaiting him. The anticipation caused him to tremble in her arms, unable to fathom Chloe Sullivan's presence wading in his love. She rained kisses on his forehead and temple, soothing him, telling him how much she wanted this by the tenderness in her lips.

Their moment of separation would last no longer. Like ocean waves finding the sandy shore, they finally became one with a groan and whimper of pleasure. Clark heard her gasp softly in his hair, just as his own grunts and sounds of ecstasy rolled like thunder from his throat. He barely felt the impulsive blush rise to his cheeks due to his vocal tendencies in bed, his mind, soul, and body drowning helplessly in the crystalline waters of Chloe's love. Settling his head to her chest, Clark gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, wishing he could be with Chloe like this forever.

As the first waves of their desire began to take hold, Clark slid his eyes open, suddenly aware of a strange, rhythmic _thump _echoing against the walls of the stock room. He turned to the right, towards the direction he believed the sound to be coming from, and noticed Chloe's left hand gripping the edge of the porcelain, antique sink. Her knuckles were pure white, testifying to the excessive strength she was using to tighten her grasp, desperate and determined not to let go. And with each forward motion of his hips, the sink thumped against the wall because of Chloe's relentless hold.

Clark sighed deeply and pressed his head into Chloe's chest, looking down upon the floor. Tiny squares of green and white tile decorated the floor below them, a detail he failed to notice until now. Only then did he realize each _thump_ was preceded by a _clink _created by his belt striking the tile floor. The sounds of their lovemaking had grown into something completely different - something that thrilled him immensely. Their moment together was erratic and wild underneath their desperation for release and remembrance, and he knew he would never forget making love to Chloe in a dreary stock room at the Daily Planet.

He nuzzled Chloe's neck, and finally let his instincts take over, unable to think any longer. On every thrust inward, she met him with a strangled gasp, gripped his neck tightly, and bit down hard on his ear lobe, trembling and melting into him. The pressure took his breath way, and a quivering Chloe Sullivan in his arms made his soul grow still.

Clark's love for her swelled and blossomed like a flower in the spring, spiraling through him with a purpose he didn't sense before.

And the harmony of their love finally overcame him ... _clink, grunt, thump, whimper..._

He knew they had entered heaven.

0000000000000000

_tbc _


	6. Chapter 6

_**Ten Minutes Later ... **_

The stock room turned quiet when they finally disengaged from one another. After they made love, Clark held Chloe tightly in his embrace, unwilling to let her go. For quite a few minutes she surrendered to him, content to lay her head upon his shoulder until their sexual peeks subsided. Throughout the short period they cuddled, Clark thought only of the numerous times they made love the previous Saturday night. He remembered how exhausted they felt after each time, prompting them to settle comfortably in one another's arms to enjoy the imminent afterglow.

Today felt no different, and once again his eyes fell upon her beautiful skin. Clark glided his fingertips along her shoulder and upper arm while she fought to catch her breath. Her back was still pressed against the wall, though neither of them envisioned moving to a more comfortable spot. Rather, he had no wish but to stand here, hold her, and enjoy the delicious stillness of being inside of her while they waded through the aftershocks of their sexual release. Despite himself, he could still feel his adrenaline tingling the surface of his skin, like the desire he harbored for Chloe would never go away.

After their morning spent in the stock room, the thought didn't surprise him.

Currently he watched her from the other side of the room as she dressed. While he pulled up his underwear and jeans, he considered looking away to give her privacy. However, he let the idea slide when he remembered how frequently he's seen her naked in the past few days. His eyes settled mainly on her efficient hands rather than the rest of her body, watching their delicate form while she buttoned her blouse. Flashes of their desire returned to him, and he recalled how those same, beautiful hands unclasped the top button of his jeans. Chloe undressed him when they first made love, but, strangely, undressing him in a stock room felt far more sexual in nature, fueled not only by the place but also by the urgency laced within her grasp.

This time her need for him was difficult to miss.

Finally Chloe noticed his endless stare, and turned to him with a sheepish smile. "What?" she asked.

Clark shrugged. "Nothing," he insisted.

He walked to the sink and retrieved his forgotten T-shirt, feeling almost sad to have to place it back on. He could tell by the flush in Chloe's cheeks that she enjoyed gazing at his upper body. If life went his way, he would pick her up and speed them back to her apartment or the farm. Then Chloe could look at his chest all afternoon if she wanted, just as he would want to do with her in return.

_I think I could stare at her beautiful body all day ... yeah, I know I could, _he concluded thoughtfully, blushing.

"You're just so beautiful," he mumbled finally. He nervously fiddled with the bottom of his T-shirt, almost afraid to say his next thought aloud. But he said it anyway. "I just wish I would've noticed it sooner."

Chloe nodded and turned away, mindful of the affection in his voice. Already she felt horrible for having allowed the moment to go this far. She never imagined they would end up here again, both struggling to find meaning to their unexpected, soulful lovemaking. For her, nothing had changed from their night together. Despite the feelings spurred by loving Clark again, nothing could solve the doubts driven far into her heart.

Clark slipped his shirt on over his shoulders, though his eyes remained on Chloe's lovely form. He imagined what it might feel like to wake up next to her on some idle Tuesday morning. Maybe he'd make breakfast for them to eat together in bed, or maybe he would seduce her into calling in sick so they could spend the day together. An entire day making love with Chloe made his toes curl with excitement, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to make his thoughts a reality.

With her back turned from him and her attention drawn to the dutiful task of making herself look _office presentable_ just minutes after sex, Chloe failed to notice Clark's quiet approach. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and her actions slowed to his touch. She glanced to him halfway, suddenly aware of the last flare of her unquenched arousal still tingling between her legs. _Why couldn't she get a grip on herself? Would her sexual core always pulse with interest whenever he was around her? _

_How uncomfortable was that going to be from now on? Especially when she was trying to convince herself that being with him didn't matter to her?_

Clark gripped her shoulder and stepped forward, just enough to the let the front of his body brush against her back. "I can come over tonight," he whispered, making his intentions quite clear. There was no going back now. Clark wanted to be with her, and his words left no room for interpretation.

Chloe shook her head and closed her eyes. _Must be strong. _"No, uh ... actually, my boss just gave me this new story that'll take boat loads of research. So I'll probably be chained to my desk most of the night."

_Chained? Couldn't think of a better word, Sullivan? _Chloe thought, desperately trying to will away the fantasy of being chained to her Daily Planet desk while Clark relentlessly pleasured her.

However, her excuse meant nothing to him, despite her attempts to push him away. Clark merely stepped further into her, and wrapped his arms fully around her waist from behind. Nothing could stop her small exhale of pleasure when she felt his still unbuttoned jeans nudging into her lower back - not even her own convictions. And rather than stiffen in his arms, her body melted into him, molding into his form like clay.

Clark smiled against her throat and slipped his left hand underneath her blouse. He flattened his palm upon her smooth stomach, and remembered his desire to kiss her there the next time they made love. _Perhaps tonight his lips might finally graze the skin of her beautiful midsection. _

"I could visit you tonight," he murmured as he settled his chin on her left shoulder. "Bring dinner."

Chloe ignored the sensation rising underneath her skin, and fought the instinct of her heart to say yes. "Clark ... that's ... that's not good for me," she insisted, noticing the nervous crack in her voice.

He shrugged and kissed the nape of her neck. "I promise I won't cook."

"No," she replied softly, finding her strength. She fought back tears, because nothing seemed right about any of this. "I really don't think we should do this."

This time Clark stiffened against her, and he pulled back in disbelief. Only now did her protests reach his ears, bringing to his attention the true reason behind her words. His mind whirled a bit, unable to fathom having to go through this again. "Can't do this? Do what? Make love to me for the hundredth time? What?"

Chloe turned around to face him, and saw the rage in his eyes. He needed to understand this. No matter how desperately they wanted each other right now, nothing could make the reasons for their first night together disappear. Clark made love to her because he was in pain over Lana's new relationship with Lex. Chloe, on the other hand, made love to Clark because Lex made her feel unworthy of anyone's love.

In the end, they slept together because of their personal problems, and not because of love. Chloe seriously doubted Clark's devotion to her on a romantic level, certain the sex has clouded his better judgment. Up until Saturday night, his mind was centered on Lana, and Chloe had no reason to believe anything had changed.

Soon the momentary cloud of desire would fade, and they might find each other in a relationship neither truly wanted.

"Clark," she pleaded affectionately, stepping up to him. Her hands reached for his jeans and clasped the top button, then the belt buckle - the very same buckle she struggled to unclasp just before they had sex. After the button was securely in place, she zipped him up and gazed to him. He watched her carefully the entire time, and noticed the beauty in her features, and the love in her eyes. In seconds, his anger faded to frustration, realizing he could never stay angry with his best friend for long.

Chloe stilled her hands on his jeans, and Clark placed his hand other hers. "Chloe," he pleaded in return.

"I don't know if this is the path for us right now," she murmured, letting her eyes fall from his face. She couldn't look at him while her mind argued what her heart could not.

"Then what just happened here?" he asked, his frustration gaining momentum. "We made love ... _again_. We both enjoyed it immensely ... _again_. I don't sleep around with women in stock rooms on a regular basis."

Chloe glanced down further to the floor, aware of his reasons to fight for a relationship. Regardless of her reservations, they did have sex for the fourth time in less than three days. The statistic alone should convince both of them of the reality of their love. She hasn't spent this much time with one man since her summer column at the Planet back in high school. Even then, the sex with her summer love felt nothing like this. She didn't think of it every minute of the day, nor did her body react in such a purely sexual manner every time her lover came around.

But Clark ... could she really risk a relationship with him?

"You and I were just two emotionally distressed people looking for an outlet to release our pain," she began regretfully. "Our _outlet_ happened to be sex, and as good friends, we were there for each other. And I wouldn't have wanted to release my dysfunctional pain with anyone else but you."

Clark placed his hands on his waist, and lowered his eyes to the floor. "You really don't think it's more than that?" he asked, truly amazed Chloe could so easily side-step the love they've shared the last two days. Despite the insistence in her words, he could also hear the battle of her conflicting emotions. Nothing has changed since Saturday; Clark still wants her, and Chloe still feels their love is based on a foundation that doesn't truly exist.

Yet on the other side of her doubts sat her need for him - a need she has chosen to ignore.

Silence passed between them. Chloe sighed deeply as she struggled to find the right words to say. Unfortunately, her heart weighed heavily on her mind, refusing to let her lie to him about how deeply these past two days have meant to her. The doubts in her mind worked both ways - both for and against the love they seem to have discovered in the midst of their mutual pain.

Unable to decipher her feelings in the heat of the moment, she admitted, "I don't know."

"Then maybe we should try this," Clark offered, nudging close to her.

However, she promptly backed away, giving him no physical advantage over her. Already her stomach began to churn with excitement, knowing the pleasure she would receive if she let Clark enter her space right now. If anything, they needed time away from each other to truly understand the intensity of their current situation. Something was definitely happening here, but was it purely physical attraction? Or much more?

Chloe shook her head. "I can't talk about this anymore."

The pressure of his presence and the love she didn't fully understand began to suffocate her. She wished she could make him go away. At the same time, her heart thumped wildly for him, desperate for his touch. The fuse in her brain popped and crackled with confusion, and she knew nothing could be decided in these few precious moments.

"I need to time to think about everything – figure it out," she murmured, glancing to him. "I don't want the two of us to jump in the pool before we realize there's no water."

Clark nodded, sensing Chloe's need to investigate the new direction in their relationship. After years of rejection, and after they shared a night of passion, he suddenly wanted to be with her. Chloe's reservations, though frustrating, were well placed, because she could not be certain if his feelings were based on the act or on the love they might have created while together. As far as she knew, the love they shared before they had sex did not stretch past friendship, giving Chloe reason to doubt his intentions and the validity of his feelings.

For him, it had turned into something so much more than platonic love. Not only has his love for her grown because of their night together, but it has also grown because of the affection she has given to him. Since they made love, it was all he could do to keep his mind off of her. His heart yearned for her touch, yearned for her soul. She took his pain away, and gave him her love to dwell in its place - a love he denied knowing at all until now.

Even so, Clark felt certain his feelings were very real, despite the reasons why they developed in his heart. And he knew he had to give Chloe time to discover what he already found.

"Okay," he whispered, wishing the moment had turned out differently. He longed only to pick her up in his arms and carry her away, to a place meant for them alone. Perhaps fate would lead them to a field in Smallville, or even to her apartment in Metropolis to hide amongst the city lights. Fate could even lead them to his Fortress of Solitude, where they could lay together, nestled in the crystals created by his home. There they could learn of the love that has brought them together in a time of heartache and chaos.

There they could learn how that love could give them everything they've always wanted.

Chloe gave him a small smile and walked to the door leading to the copy room. Her hand gripped the handle, but she didn't open the door quite yet. Instead she said softly, "I just need to make sure this isn't a mistake."

Clark felt his heart fall the moment she said _mistake. _None of the lovemaking had felt like a mistake to him. On the contrary, every time he made love to Chloe felt incredibly right; so right that it truly scared him. He began to consider how many years he wasted because he chased after Lana rather than Chloe, never knowing what the love from the latter truly meant to him.

"I think you should leave first," she whispered as she finally opened the door to the safety of the Daily Planet basement awaiting them a wall away.

Silence engulfed them once again, and rather than rush out to ensure no one saw them, Clark waited and watched her. When he didn't move, she finally turned to look at him and noticed a strange flare in his eyes. She might have pushed him away for now, but something told her this _thing_ between them was far from over. Unlike the night they spent together, Chloe, regardless of her promised restraint, sensed they would be in this place again ... and soon.

He approached her finally, though his eyes did not let go of her stare. When he came to her, inches from her aura, he took her hand and leaned in close. His other hand he placed upon her cheek, caressing it. Again he felt her stiffen, then melt into his arms. Even within her reaction of his touch he could feel her confusion, unable to decide which risk she wanted to take - love him or walk away? In his mind, the choice was made at the very height of their passion when they first made love.

_Her face buried in his neck, her fingertips digging into his impenetrable skin ... and as they looked to one another, minds clouded with desire, Chloe kissed him gently on the cheek. And to his ear, she whispered, "I'll love you always."_

Clark knew his heart would never be the same after she said those words. In the moment, it took every amount of strength not to say them in return. He restrained himself only because he feared her reaction, and because he knew his version of love might differ from hers. He had no idea why she said them, nor did he want to ask, fearing the excuse she might use to deter him.

Nevertheless, as he caressed her cheek and looked deeply into her eyes, her love for him flickered back to life. And he knew she suffered when they were apart just as much as he did.

"If all of this is a mistake," he replied, "then why can't we stop thinking about each other?"

Chloe lowered her eyes. "Please, Clark," she breathed softly, her voice lost to the air surrounding them. "Please leave."

Clark dropped her hand from his grasp and moved to the door behind them. All of the fluorescent lights in the copy room were still on, and the fax machine hummed in the silence, waiting to be used again. The park just outside the windows was now vacant, though the sun remained at the same height in the sky, telling Clark their time in the stock room was short lived.

He wanted to look back at her. He really did. But her words forced him forward, because he knew he had to give her space. Nevertheless, his heart sung sorrowfully because of his departure from Chloe, reminding him how desperately he needed her. Steps to the next door, to the outside world, came closer much too quickly, and he prayed for the ability to turn back time. He longed for the moment when he held her up against the wall after they just made love, buried in one another as they waited for the waves of their pleasure to ease away.

If he knew Chloe would react in such a distant way, Clark would have dressed them quickly and ran them to that spot where they could truly talk. And maybe he would be lying in her arms, his head on her chest, listening to the beat of her heart rather than walking away from her.

The possibilities filtered into his brain, and made his steps into the Daily Planet newsroom basement easier to take. Once he came to a spot safe from curious eyes, he sped away to Smallville - having never looked back with his eyes.

Clark left his heart with her instead.

000000000000000

**_tbc_**


	7. Chapter 7

_**That Afternoon ...** _

The Kent Farm stayed quiet the rest of the day. After his conversation with Chloe, Clark came straight home to finish up the rest of his chores. He took advantage of the nice weather and worked outside the entire morning. New fences went up, daily farm work was attended to, and life proceeded as usual as Clark sped through his chores in his special, super way. Some days he took his time, as a way to feel the length of work his father endured for so many years. Chloe often told him it was his way to feel closer to his father, even in death. However, other days, like today, he wanted nothing but to finish them as quickly as possible. Though his trip to Metropolis took precious time from his usual schedule, he still finished the chores by mid afternoon - only an hour or so later than usual.

Of course, he would attest his lateness to the preoccupation of his mind on a spunky, beautiful blonde currently sitting alone at her Daily Planet desk. Clark thought of her non-stop since he came home, and centered his attention mostly on the last words they said to each other. Often he would stop his work entirely just to concentrate on her more fully, certain he missed something of value in their conversation.

Yet he also let his mind wander to the stock room, and to the touch of her hands on his skin. Just the thought of her against him caused heat to rise wildly in his body, forcing him to find a private spot to relieve his desire. He wondered then if Kryptonian biology made him crave the one he loved so desperately, though he never remembered his love for Lana feeling this intense.

But Lana was different. Lana wasn't Chloe.

Because he worked straight through the midday meal, Clark decided to make a late lunch to quell the grumble in his stomach. When he returned from the fields and walked into the back door, he noticed how quiet the house felt. His mother had left early that morning for Metropolis, leaving him alone for the day. Today, he realized, would have been perfect to spend with Chloe. They could have spent the day outside in the fields, or inside the house - whichever felt the most comfortable - and talked endlessly about their love, about life, and everything else in between.

There was no telling how often they might have made love. Figuring the frequency of the act during their first night together, an entire day gave them an infinite amount of time. Clark blushed a little as he walked further into the kitchen and envisioned how Chloe might look sprawled out on the kitchen table, or counter. His blush turned a deep crimson when he imagined the two of them making their mark on every room in the house.

_No, I couldn't do that, _he thought seriously, knowing he would never survive his mother's anger if she discovered their activities. Not to mention, it would be incredibly rude to do such a thing in his parents' home.

Clark pushed his images of Chloe aside long enough to make sandwiches. He grabbed a can of Coke from the fridge, a bag of chips from the counter, and then walked into the living room to watch television while he ate. Before his father's death he rarely watched any amount of TV. However, since he quit college and has taken on his father's responsibilities on the farm, he found himself with a lot of extra time on his hands. He watched far more movies than he cared to admit, and, unfortunately, without his favorite critic - Chloe - by his side.

At the moment, he ended his search for a program on a soap opera, glad his mother or Lois weren't home to tease him about his choice. Clark would never admit he watched such television shows in the daytime, yet when he comes in from the field the TV always ends up on _Days Of Our Lives _or _The_ _Young and the Restless_. He cringed when he considered what Chloe would think of his recent soap opera fetish. Though, after a few hours of teasing, she might call his obsession cute and give him a friendly, affectionate head rub for good measure.

As per tradition, his remote ended on _General Hospital_, and he watched with great interest as he ate his sandwiches. After he finished his lunch, Clark sprawled out fully on the couch and flipped the remote between the latter soap opera and his recent interest - _Guiding Light_. The bag of chips ended up on his stomach, giving him easy access while he watched.

Though Clark was usually highly entertained by the melodrama of a daytime soap, his mind wandered easily away from it due to the recent events in his life. He considered what Chloe might be doing right now, and distantly wondered about her safety. Chloe attracted danger on a daily basis, even when she wasn't looking for it. However, since their night together, Clark started to worry about her far more frequently - like every second of the day. He considered calling her cell phone, but thought better of it when he thought of her reaction. She made her intentions quite clear with him that morning - _I need time to think. _And he was willing to give her that.

The late afternoon hour began to slip easily into evening. The sun dropped a bit in the sky, creating shadows around Clark's sleeping form. The soap opera on the television had long since disappeared as the normal cycle of day time programming continued to unfold - _The Oprah Winfrey Show_, then swiftly into the local 5 o'clock Action News. No lights were turned on in the living room, so the darkness helped Clark sleep quite soundly, with an empty bag of chips and empty paper plate on the floor.

Like the previous few days, his dreams centered mainly on Chloe. Time stood still within the treasure of her love, even in the timeless halt of his sleep. Everything felt magical when he was nestled in her arms, like the wistful love from a fairy tale. He could almost feel her body snuggled against him, along with the tickle of her breath to his ear. She would whisper words of love, perhaps a few select phrases to make him blush. And soon their casual kisses would turn passionate, intense as they eagerly gave into the pleasure of their endless, overpowering desire.

Clark's eyes suddenly opened when he heard the buzz of a car engine just outside the back door. The car awakened his senses immediately, mainly because he distantly knew the time of day. His mother and Lois were due home any minute, and the sudden presence outside was sure to be them. They would flip if they found him lounging so haphazardly, giving no attention to anything else around him save for the TV and a few farm chores. His mother knew why those chores took him so little time, but Lois always questioned his apparent ability to earn so much free time from a demanding job.

In seconds his mess was cleaned up and polished, though he forget to change the television or turn on the lights before his mother and Lois walked in.

"Honey?" his mother called, walking directly to the lamp on the kitchen counter. She turned it on and saw Clark sitting alone on the couch. Because of the atmosphere of the room, Martha distantly considered Clark might be hiding a girl somewhere in the house. His clothes did look a little dirty, which assured her of his work on the farm today. Actually, she was slightly surprised he hadn't taken a shower yet. Usually he was clean and fresh by the time she returned home.

Lois walked in behind Martha. "Hey, Clark? Forget to the pay the electric bill this month?"

Clark turned off the TV and stood from the couch. "Need help finding an apartment in Metropolis, Lois?" he bit back, far more harshly than attended.

"Okay you two, enough," Martha said calmly. She placed her briefcase on the kitchen table, and studied her son as he approached her. Dutifully, Clark pulled her into a hug and kissed her cheek. Immediately she sensed weariness about her son that worried her. Something felt wrong, though she couldn't place her finger on it. "Did you get everything finished today?"

Clark nodded and stepped out of her embrace. "Of course."

"I'm sorry I'm not here more to help you," Martha said regretfully.

He merely shrugged and reached for an apple in a bowl on the kitchen counter. "Don't worry, Mom. You know me ... I am completely capable of taking care of the farm by myself."

"Still ... it doesn't mean you should. Your father always appreciated the help."

Clark took a bite of his apple and said nothing more. Though he would never admit his ever present distress over his father's death, his sadness could still be seen in his actions, as well as in the cavernous structure of his eyes. Neither Lois nor Martha said much to him about it, knowing his darkened demeanor was expected after such a heartbreaking loss. Still, underneath the usual angst, Martha noticed something else entirely - a new stress he didn't care to enlighten any further than by the drawn lines on his face.

Martha walked out into the living room and noticed a few empty Coke cans still strewn on the coffee table. Though she saw nothing else, she knew the habits of her son, especially those that have taken form recently. Actually, his lethargic tendencies worried her a bit, especially when she remembered his strong spirit back in high school. Presently, it seemed like he cared about very little save for the life of his father's farm. As if, by obligation, he made the farm his only purpose in life.

Lois walked up beside Clark and studied him closely, her nostrils aflame with a familiar, flowery perfume clinging to his aura. She didn't remember such a scent on him before, recalling the number of instances he has placed cologne on his skin just after a shower or before he went out. None of his chosen fragrances smelled like this. Not only that, but Lois also noticed the dirt on the front of his white T-shirt. The dirt didn't arouse her suspicion as much as the dried rust stains did, peppered on the back of his shirt like rain.

"Really, Mom, it's fine. I don't mind. The farm is my responsibility, and I just as soon take care of it by myself," Clark commented matter-of-factly, though neither Lois or Martha neglected to hear the twinge of annoyance laced delicately in his voice.

Martha folded her arms and kept her gaze upon the couch and coffee table. She knew the tracks of her son, even when he tried to cover them up with his powers. Obviously, he had spent the entire afternoon on the couch, content to lounge the day away. Though Clark claimed to be over his father's death, lingering affects of his sadness clouded his daily activities. He rarely went out, nor did he do anything more than work on the farm and watch television. He left only to see Chloe in Metropolis, which gave Martha the only glimmer of hope that her son wasn't lost entirely to the darkness of his grief.

"But Clark, your father never wanted you to be like this," she replied, walking back into the kitchen.

As Clark and his mother argued a bit, which was also becoming a common activity in the Kent household, Lois let her eyes wander over Clark's form. She studied him carefully, looking for any type of hint to explain his weird behavior, or give her the source of the perfume on his clothes. The flowery fragrance was difficult to miss once she discovered it, mainly because it's scent felt so familiar. After a minute or so, she began to wonder whether Clark was using a new soap in an attempt to embrace more of his feminine side.

Clark sighed irritably. "I'm doing what he wanted me to do. I'm taking care of this farm. What more do you want from me?"

Martha sensed the rise in her son's voice, but she didn't let it scare her a bit. "Your father wanted you to follow your dreams. He never wanted you to stay here."

"But Mom, if I leave we'll lose the farm. There's no way I will let that happen."

Lois listened to the conversation with a distant ear, only because it was the same subject the two argued about over and over again. Frankly, Clark's obsession with this farm worried her a bit, too. Back in high school he seemed excited about college, and he even considered a future in journalism alongside his best friend. If anything seemed more perfect for Clark and Chloe, working together at the Daily Planet was one.

She could almost see the billboard now - "_Sullivan and Kent_ _- Where the truth is revealed."_

Just as Lois began to berate her attempts at creativity, her eyes came upon a red stain on the collar of his white T-shirt. _Lipstick! _

"We can hire workers for the farm. And Clark, even if we have to sell some of the land, we'll always have the house. Your father and I made sure of that," Martha explained calmly, refusing to get angry. "I have different responsibilities now. I'm trying to move on."

"Move on?!" Clark asked, bewildered. "Move on from Dad?"

Martha sighed deeply and kept her composure, because she knew Clark's anger was not directed towards her. Her son struggled with many different emotions these days, all of which stemmed from the loss of his father. She understood a few of them, but others he kept mostly to himself. Every night that he sat in his loft alone, Martha prayed the murky clouds in her son's life would lift soon. Hours spent alone, and while still suffering from loss, were not good for anyone. Most of all, he needed something she couldn't give him.

She stepped up to her son and placed a hand on his cheek, noting his features looked so mature and refined. He was becoming a man right before her eyes - a man who refused to choose his own destiny. A man crippled by sadness.

"Your father will always be with me. I loved him with all my heart. And this farm was our living," she began quietly. "But he's gone, and every minute I am in this house I think of him. Working with the Senate has helped me live with his passing, and find something new to cling to."

Clark tried to back away, but Martha kept hold of him by the strong grasp of her motherly love - a grasp stronger than any super human strength he could muster.

"He wanted me to keep going, to not dwell on his loss," Martha said quietly, her words a breath of life into Clark's lungs.

Clark could almost hear his father saying such a statement, and the thought humbled him more than he was willing to admit.

"And for you," she continued. "He wanted you to find your own future, Clark."

Previous conversations with his father began to trickle back into his mind like the familiar aroma of a midsummer's day. His father instructed him time and again to follow his own path in life. When Clark begged to be on the football team, his father reminded him of his special powers - and never let him forget how important his special abilities would be to the rest of the world.

_You're meant for more than scoring touchdowns, or running a farm. _

_But the farm, _Clark remembered, _was Dad's life_. _The farm meant everything to him. _

Martha pushed a thin piece of paper in Clark's hand, urging him to drift away from his thoughts. "Please just think about it."

Clark looked down and saw the title on the paper - _Application for Admission to Kansas University. _He grimaced and scrunched the paper into a tight ball. If Lois had not been there, he would have thrown the ball out into space so it could never be seen again. Instead, he threw it into the wastebasket across the room, and turned to his mother with a hard stare. "It's not in the cards for me, Mom," he murmured.

When his saw his mother's stern glance in return, he released the intensity driven into his features as a way to call a truce. He hated arguing with his mother, especially over something he couldn't change. However, the determination in his eyes remained, and he promised, "I will not lose this farm. This was Dad's life, and I won't let it go."

Lois watched Mrs. Kent stiffen with her son's words, and for the first time she let her frustration with the conversation drain into her face. Her eyes dipped into shadows of disappointment, suddenly aware she couldn't win this argument - at least not today. Along with apathetic, Clark had also grown stubborn in the recent weeks. Both of these new feelings were late side effects to his father's death, and had made helping him almost impossible. Most days he stayed in the loft, only venturing out to do his chores or to eat meals.

Now, apparently, all ideas of going back to college seemed to have fallen by the wayside, as well. And Lois worried about him.

Martha walked over to the kitchen counter next to the sink, choosing to let the subject go for now. Though Jonathan Kent was not Clark's biological father, many days it was difficult to see the distinction. Right now, her son had acted far too much like her late, beloved husband. And knowing her husband, her son needed to find his own way, and in his own time. No one could force him.

"Dinner will be ready in an hour," she whispered, glancing to her son for hope.

Clark merely withdrew further. "I'm not hungry," he murmured. He retreated to the screen door quickly, and kept his eyes downward, away from his mother. "I still have chores to do before nightfall. You two eat. I'll make something else later on."

In a lightning flash, Clark was gone. The screen door banged against the frame in his wake, and Lois turned to Martha with a regretful stare. She shrugged her shoulders and returned to the preparation of the small dinner. Though Clark would not be there, she would still make enough for everyone. But the routine of the past few months lingered into her mind once again, giving her doubt. She made enough for Clark whenever he chose to hide away in the loft for the night. And every morning she saw the plate she made for him in the refrigerator, in the exact place she had left it.

Lois walked out onto the porch to search for Clark, but she found him immediately just a few yards away. He stood quietly in the middle of the dirt driveway with a worn basketball in his hands. Either he didn't see her, or he didn't care, because he kept his eyes on the ball, apparently deep in thought. She wanted to scream at him, and tell him what a jerk he has been to his mother the past few months. What a jerk he's been to everyone, actually. No one seemed able to break through his armor of remorse, and for first time she's met him, she grew genuinely worried for her friend.

"Hey, Smallville," she called finally, forcing him to notice her presence. She descended the steps quickly and walked towards him, but he kept his gaze purposefully on the barn, away from her. "Can you tell me why you're being such an ass?"

Clark huffed and started to walk in the direction of the loft. "Stay out of it, Lois. You have no idea what's going on."

But Lois caught up to him, grabbed his arm, and turned him to face her. The frustration and anger driven into his eyes inside the kitchen had morphed into emotions she didn't fully grasp. "You're right," she admitted with a bite in her voice. "None one on this planet has any idea what's going on in that scrambled head of yours."

He jerked his arm away from her grip. "Just go away, Lois. I don't want to argue with you."

"Your Mom is only trying to help you," Lois replied, ignoring his pleas. "If you can't talk to her, then talk to someone. Fix this mess you're in ... whatever it is. If your problem is Lana, the farm, or your father - or something else - please find some way to deal with it before you hide in your loft and shrivel away into a pile of flannel."

"I _am_ handling this," he murmured, though the words from his mouth sounded hollow even to him.

Lois shook her head and lowered her voice. "Judging by your Mr. Hyde impression in the kitchen just a few minutes ago, I doubt it." Her eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar, and she smiled knowingly. She gestured to the spot, and replied, "I hope you can talk to her, at least. Whoever she might be."

Clark furrowed his brow in an act of confusion. "Who? I don't know what you're talking about," he reassured quickly, awed with her incredible insight. How did she know?

Regardless, he fought the need to say something about his affair with Chloe. He wanted to climb a mountain, let his shouts echo off valleys and canyons, and profess his love for Chloe to the entire world. Yet he remembered nothing about their current _friendship with benefits _situation was at all resolved, especially Chloe's feelings for him. Because of that, he thought it better to keep his mouth shut, and keep his little affair hidden from public knowledge.

They would tell people when the time was right.

Yet Lois had a point, despite the presence of Chloe's words in his mind - _I need time to think_. Why hasn't he gone to Chloe to talk over his emotions? More than anything, he needed her for that reason alone. Perhaps giving himself to her on Saturday night had something to do with the emotional problems that still lingered from his father's death. It wouldn't be the first time he hid his true problems in something aesthetic, something pleasurable. This time, however, rather than drown in drugs and crime, he found the loving touch of his best friend instead.

No wonder she backed away from him. Did she sense the ugliness inside of him?

But ...he needed her. He desperately needed her right now.

"Right. I forgot that you moonlight as a Drag Queen on the weekends," Lois said irritably, drawing her fingers to the lipstick on his collar.

Clark blinked his eyes and glanced down to the spot on his shirt. Of course, Chloe had to leave her mark behind somewhere, even if it wasn't on his skin. He blushed a little when he remembered how many times he left _his_ mark on _her_ skin. Her neck, especially, probably had indentations of his teeth and red marks from his lips - evidence of the passion he could never suppress while in her presence.

"It's nothing," he finally replied. He turned away from her, and hoped she would leave him be. Only peace and quiet could make him feel better after his argument with his mother. Though he appreciated Lois' concern for him, she also had no idea how to help him. She knew nothing of his resurrection from the dead, and his father's sacrifice to ensure he lived to fulfill his destiny. She couldn't grasp the guilt he felt, nor could she begin to understand the devotion he harbored for this farm.

But Chloe understood. She understood everything.

Lois started to follow him as he walked to his loft, unwilling to let him go so easily. "It must've meant something, because, other than the farm, she seems to be the only reason why you step out of that stupid loft at all."

Clark glanced to her over his shoulder, his anger from before gone completely from his face. When the anger came, it always dissipated the moment he found a way to release it. Arguing with his mother, unfortunately, tended to be a decent outlet for his emotions. However, his anger remained when he left the kitchen moments ago. Only his recent thoughts of Chloe seemed to make him feel better, effectively pushing away every horrible thing in his life.

He breathed in deeply and looked out upon the air to the friendly face that waited for him to answer. A soft breeze rushed through his hair, through his heart the moment he let Chloe's face settle in the back of his mind. She looked beautiful, as she always did. Everything else on the planet fell away, leaving only her to pull him away from his pain.

"Thank you, Lois," he whispered. "But I really want to be alone."

Lois squinted her eyes as he turned from her and walked to the barn up ahead. She longed to know his thoughts, and wondered upon the reason for the guilt in his heart. Of course, all children were sure to feel guilt from their parents' death, yet Clark's darkness stretched far into the very depths of his soul. His darkness was much too serious, and Lois could only hope her friend found someone to help him through.

Thoughts of his conversation with Lois filtered out of his brain as he climbed the steps up to his personal sanctuary. Chloe stormed back in front of his eyes, and soon she was all he could see. He barely realized his body falling onto the couch, or heard the faint drizzle of a dewy, evening rain falling from the gray clouds above. His eyes drifted close, and he thought of his lover, his best friend. He pondered upon her whereabouts once again, and what she might be doing to pass the time. Would it be a bad thing to buy dinner and bring it to her?

_I need time to think._

Clark stretched out completely on his worn couch and decided against any attempts to see her tonight. But boy did he want to. Yet he suppressed the urge to run to her with all of his speed, and pick her up in his arms with all of his strength. Instead he let his thoughts dip into her image like a magical pool, covering him in the joy only she could give him. He imagined her body pressed down into his, and the soft breath of her kisses on his neck.

Above all, however, he could almost hear the reassurance of her voice in his ear ...

_It's okay to be angry ... _

Clark covered his face with his right forearm, desperate to will the tears from his eyes. He could almost see Chloe against the black canvas of his eyelids; coming alive by the very images of her he had saved in his mind. Little by little, he sensed her body stretched alongside his own, and the trail of her fingertips as they tickled his skin. Her head fell to his chest to listen to his heartbeat, and her legs tangled inside of his.

_No more worries..._

_I'm here now ..._

Clark gave into her, even if only into her image, or into the wish of his heart. By the next strike of the clock on his desk, he had drifted off to a dreamless, peaceful sleep. And in his dreams he prayed he would never have to live without her.

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**tbc **


	8. Chapter 8

_**Three days later ... **_

Not much changed in the few days since Clark argued with his mother. He still kept the farm running smoothly by working all morning, then wasting the afternoon away in his loft. During the night he thought of Chloe often, though he never ventured out to see her. Actually, he hasn't seen or spoken to her once since they had sex in the Daily Planet basement stock room. He never imagined a relationship with Chloe would turn out this way, whether they intended to sleep together or not. Going days between sex, and not speaking once in between felt very odd, to say the least.

But she needed time to think.

Clark had finished work on the farm a little later today than usual. Thursdays were always a bit more difficult than the others, because he had to deliver fruits, vegetables, and pick up the weekly feed for the animals. Most of the day he spent driving across the countryside of Kansas, though he was always within a fifty-mile radius of Smallville. While he traveled, he considered going just a bit further into Metropolis to see her. At one point, he even drove right to the ramp leading onto the freeway, with the sign "Metropolis - 130 miles" mocking him.

It took all of his willpower to turn the wheel around, and head back home.

Home ... where he wasn't speaking to his mother. Where Lois bugged him every hour to get off his ass and reconcile his issues.

Right now, home was the last place he wanted to be.

As per tradition, he made a fresh pot of coffee for the night, and wondered whether Chloe would ever share in his routine. Perhaps, when they were finally together, he would run to Metropolis and bring her to his loft. Maybe he would make that fresh pot of coffee, and maybe they would stay up the entire night talking, wishing upon the stars while they lay underneath the blanket of the warm, summer sky. Both the frogs and crickets would be out at the lake again, with croaks and chirps released in rhythm to play nature's own love song. Of course, Chloe wouldn't be able to hear them. But he would ... and along with the beat of her heart against his ear, he was sure he could die a happy man.

Clark took a long sip of his coffee as he stood and stared out his loft window. He remembered the past weekend when he stood at this exact perch, and Chloe surprised him with an unexpected visit. They talked for quite some time, though neither imagined their conversation would lead them to bed. Or, rather, his couch with the Native American blanket from when he was a child still draped over the back. He glanced over at the couch from the window, his mind caught in the image of Chloe using the blanket for warmth while they lay comfortably in each other's arms. Unfortunately, neither said anything, in fear any word could ruin the moment.

Instead, they let the comfortable silence between them say everything.

Translucent clouds gently stroked the crescent moon in the middle of the night sky. The rain clouds from the weekend had finally dissipated in the last few days, giving into the sun for most of the workweek. Though forecasters saw evidence for future thunderstorms in the days to come, at the moment the earth was still and peaceful - just the way Clark liked it. Yet inside of his heart he dealt with a storm of his own, raging to and fro in the chaotic winds of his emotions.

He glanced down into his mocha colored coffee and prayed Chloe would bounce up those stairs. He wished he could tell her everything, and he craved her touch to wipe away all of his problems. Only her arms around his waist would make him feel better, and ensure him all of the heartache in his life would go away soon. Time healed everything, and he longed for it to heal the pain he has given to Chloe in the past - the reason why she hesitates to love him so openly. And he longed for her to come to him now, when he needed some healing of his own.

After another sip of his coffee, Clark decided to venture out for a few minutes. The Talon was still open, and he wanted a few muffins to add to his midnight snack. Though he could go inside his home and find something to suffice, nothing compared to a good pastry from the local coffee shop. Each pastry from the Talon reminded him of the days he spent there while in high school. Often his days were spent with Lana while she worked the counter, or with Chloe while they investigated a hot case about the meteor freak of the week.

Just the drive through memory lane was enough to make Clark zip out of his loft and into town for the blessed muffin. The run took less than two minutes because he took the long route through the woods. He knew the area very well, so he didn't need a flashlight to find his way. Not to mention, his super eyesight made it extremely easy to travel in the dark.

Soon the streetlights from Main Street appeared ahead of him, and he slowed down in the tiny alleyway behind Fordman's Department Store. Main Street was actually quite busy for a night in the middle of the week. People were walking up and down the streets, going into small town shops, and venturing into the Talon for a nice cup of gourmet coffee. Clark stepped out onto the sidewalk and looked up at the Talon building, noting the lights to the apartment on the second floor were off. He hoped Lois was gone for the night, because he had no wish to deal with her right now. He just wanted his muffin, and he'd been on his way, back to his loft where he could dream about Chloe within the safety of his silence.

After a few cars drove by, Clark crossed the street easily and walked up to the Talon within a few strides. Just by the atmosphere on the outside, he could tell the place was packed with people. He had no idea why everyone in Smallville seemed to be out this evening, though he considered it might just be an early injection of the weekend bug. Friday and Saturday nights always saw this swell of extra people in the Smallville streets, especially during the summer months. As he made his way inside, however, Clark quickly saw the reason for the crowd - a live band.

The band was just beginning to set up towards the right side of the room, and all interested people were seated close. Other people situated themselves towards the back, or in the corner, set with their coffee, something to read, a muffin, and their date for the night. Immediately Clark thought of Chloe, and envisioned taking her here on a random Thursday evening to listen to a halfway decent band. Of course, they would sit in the farthest corner and their interest in the performance would be minimal, as most of their attention would be drawn to each other. They would kiss leisurely, talk, and laugh at the littlest concerns. He could even imagine the slow movement of her hand along his knee, it's journey up to his groin hidden by the table. Nothing would stop his blush, or the way he nuzzled her neck in response to her heated touch. She would giggle at the tickle of his nose against her throat, and the sensation of his hand squeezing her thigh.

They wouldn't hesitate to leave after the first set, coffees half drunk, and pastries barely eaten. Clark would take her back to the house, left empty by his mother's obligations in Metropolis. The bottle of wine he bought the day before would be on the table, with two wine glasses on either side. Obviously, he had planned on them coming back here. And Chloe would merely laugh and pull him eagerly into the living room, because she knew the course of the night would end here, as well. After the fire is lit in the hearth, it's blaze like an orange mountain spring washing them anew, Clark would lay her down on the soft, Native American blanket from his couch - the same she used to cover herself after they first made love.

And like every time before, they would let their love be their guide. The shadows of their lovemaking would flicker against the wall like a rehearsed dance, certain, known, and cherished in every step.

They found each other when they made love. Clark didn't realize how lost he was until Chloe found him within the fervor of their passion. When they made love everything was clear, everything was surmountable, and he new that was the reason why he longed for it every hour of the day. He wanted her to find him and never let go.

Up ahead, Clark noticed no line for the counter, and hurried his step to get to the front before anyone else. He wasn't here for the band, and he only wanted his muffin so he could leave. Being around other people was not high on his list. If anything, this crowded Talon experience reminded him why he cherished his solitude. He truly needed the time away to understand his anger, and to work through his problems without having to fake a smile so no one worried. His mother and Lois already suspected the frailty of his emotions, and he was certain Chloe would soon, as well - if she hasn't already.

The young woman behind the counter smiled as he approached.

"Can I get two blueberry muffins to go?" he asked.

The woman smiled. She had short brown hair, deep blue eyes, and a subtle beauty. And she didn't stop staring at Clark as he stood at the counter, waiting for her to answer him. Clark has received these types of looks from women before - the dreamy expression, and the full mental undress of his body. He could tell when women were attracted to him, and obviously this one fell into that category. Her gaze made him feel just a bit awkward, especially when, as far as he was concerned, he was already taken.

"Sorry," she finally replied, "But we only have one left. Do you have another kind you like?"

Clark swallowed nervously. _Why wasn't Chloe here? She could get this woman to stop staring very quickly. _"How about ... apple cinnamon for the other?" That's right, because Chloe loved apple cinnamon. And after this little flirtatious episode, he felt the need to go to her and give her a big kiss, and promise his heart to her. And he would bring the muffins along, as well. To spice up the deal, sort of speak.

The woman nodded. "Sure. I'll grab them for ya."

Clark smiled and watched as she turned to the glass cabinet underneath the other side of the counter to retrieve the fresh muffins. He considered ordering coffee, but decided against it when he saw the woman had bent over purposely in front of him, giving him a full, tantalizing view of her ass. Like the gentleman he was, he turned away from her to look at the band on the other side of the room. They were just getting ready to play their first song, as each member took their place in the small stage area. Clark studied the members closely and realized he knew none of them by face.

The bag with his muffins appeared on the glass counter next to him, forcing him to turn back to the young woman. She smiled again and said, "That'll be $5.25."

Clark rummaged through his pockets and retrieved a five and one dollar bill. He placed the two bills on the counter, smiling as she took the cash tendered and entered it into the cash register. As he waited for his change, Clark glanced over his left shoulder leisurely to see if he recognized anyone. Smallville was so small that he rarely walked through town without saying hello to at least one person.

His change clinked on the counter, and Clark turned back and picked up the three quarters, placing them in his pocket. "Thanks," he said as he grabbed his bag and turned away completely, happy for the chance to leave the awkward situation. Clark was sure the woman hadn't stopped staring at him as he walked away, but there was nothing he could do about that. _You can look, but you can't touch ... _he thought with a little grin, knowing Chloe was the only one allowed to have the full package.

As Clark proceeded through the middle room, past the crowds and tables full of people, he never imagined what he would witness next. If he could have, he would have sped out of the Talon the moment he retrieved his muffins. But the fear of disclosure forced him to go at human speed, and, inadvertently, forced him to see what his heart knew to be true.

Lana and Lex at a tiny table, in the back corner, kissing with deep contentment.

He swallowed hard; never realizing the image would hit him so deeply. But Lex was certainly one of the reasons for his break-up with Lana. She never admitted it, but she obviously harbored feelings for the billionaire. And while he stood in the middle of the crowd, people walking by him as if he didn't exist, he stared helplessly as Lana deepened the kiss, and caressed Lex's face with a loving touch. The entire world came to a complete stand still for Clark, as everything else fell away. How could he still feel anything here? Why? He didn't want to feel jealous, he didn't want to feel the pang of distress and heartache ...

He wanted Chloe ... all to himself ... resting naked in his arms as the world passed them by just outside her apartment window. He wanted to look up at the moon and feel her breath against his cheek. He wanted to feel her hand over his heart, and the tender press of her lips along his throat.

"Clark?"

Clark blinked and focused his eyes on the two people sitting in that corner, both now staring back at him with great regret. He closed his eyes and turned away, but Lana quickly stood and walked to him. She grabbed his arm before he reached the door. "Clark."

He bowed his head.

"I'm sorry you saw us. I didn't know you were going to be here," she whispered.

Clark glanced to her. "Because this town isn't small enough?" he answered bitterly.

Lana bit her lip, knowing he had the right to be angry. It had barely been a few months since they were together, and she had already hooked up with someone else. Clark didn't have to like it, and, actually, she didn't expect him to. "You're right. I should have known you were likely to show up here."

Clark tried to break away from her grip, but her insistence refused to let him go.

"But you had to have known this was going to happen. Sooner or later, the two of us were going to bump into one another. I think we both have to get used to it."

He pulled his arm away and walked towards the exit. Lana glanced back to Lex, telling him with her eyes that she had to follow Clark to ensure he was okay. Lex merely nodded, and Lana hurried through the crowds to reach him.

When she broke through the entrance, the door swinging behind her, Lana saw Clark standing quietly to the left side. His confusion was evident on his face; as if he struggled to decide which direction he should go. Lana sighed deeply and walked up behind him. She knew he noticed her presence, yet he remained quiet while he turned his head from one direction to the other. One direction led back home. The other, she knew, led to Metropolis.

"Where ya going?" she asked.

Clark shrugged. "Not sure."

Lana stepped up beside him. "Well, home is that way," she said, pointing to the direction of his farm.

He grimaced slightly, and gazed into the opposite direction. "Is it?"

"Clark ... seriously, I'm sorry you saw us," she said, desperately trying to fix this.

Clark remained silent.

"I'm sorry you haven't moved on from us yet. I want you to. I want you to find someone who will make you happy."

He pursed his lips in concentration, noting the flare of concern in his ex-girlfriend's voice. More than anything, he wanted to tell Lana everything about the past week. _Do you know what I have done? I have moved on ... I've found someone who truly makes me happy. I've made love to her half a dozen times, on couches and inside stock rooms. She's your best friend, my best friend ... and she's loved me unconditionally since we've met. And right now, she's the only person I want. _

Has he moved on? Truly? Or will he never forget the adolescent love he felt for the brunette next door?

Why was he still feeling the cold stab of jealousy, even now?

"This isn't easy for either of us, I know."

Clark barely heard Lana's voice, as he kept his mind centered on Chloe; desperate for the salvation she could give him. He needed to be cleansed of his former life, his former lovers, and his lasting heartaches. He needed a new life so badly, and he knew there was only one person who could usher him into it. Could he still be a farmer, even when he knew his father wanted him to follow his dreams? Could he still feel having feelings for Lana, even when his heart now beats so strong for another?

Could he still want this life, this past, even when he knew it was drowning him?

"Clark? Do you want me to take you home? Did you bring a car?"

He blinked again, forcing the current world to come into focus. After a second or two, he gazed to Lana, who stood quietly next to him, her eyes drawn with concern. Too many nights he gazed deeply into those eyes, looking for his salvation in the wrong place. For years he was sure Lana was his one and only future. Never did he imagine life had something else planned entirely. For the future given to him witnessed the tragic death of his father, and revealed the one and only person who could take his pain away completely.

"No," he said finally. "I know my way."

Lana furrowed her brow. "You sure? I don't see your truck. Did it break down somewhere? It's a long walk home."

"It's not that far," Clark insisted. "Trust me."

With confusion and regret, she watched as Clark headed in the opposite direction of his home. She prayed he knew what he was doing. Since their break-up almost two months ago, Clark has been quite distant from her. From everyone, she suspected. The death of his father didn't help his mood at all, and probably had something to do with his current melancholy. Whatever has pulled him towards Metropolis; she hoped it was the answer to his problems.

Clark, on the other hand, didn't look back once. In only a few minutes he had made his way outside of town. And though he vowed to stay away from Chloe until she called him, Clark couldn't stay away any longer. He needed her. Every nerve in his body was crying out for her touch. He wanted to find her, and make love to her over and over again. He longed to hear her gasps of pleasure in his ear, desperate for the full press of her naked body against his own. And he craved her love to melt inside his heart, to join his soul, and to make him worthy of her.

He enjoyed solitude ... but only Chloe could make him feel the world was the way it should be.

Once outside the town limits, Clark sped to Metropolis to find the reason to live again.

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**_tbc_**


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Thank you everyone for your reviews._

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_**Ten Minutes Later ...**_

Clark ran to Metropolis as fast as he could, using every short cut he knew to reach the city in record time. Ever since Chloe moved into her apartment for the summer, he had predetermined the path of least resistance to reach her door as quickly as possible without arousing suspicion. Certain alleyways and streets allowed him to use his powers with little or no chance of being seen. He also liked to jump rooftops if he was in a really big hurry, and tonight had been, with the thought of Lana and Lex a lingering disaster in his mind, one of those special occasions.

Actually, his latest heartaches had given him reason to jump on a more therapeutic level. It was a way to release his anger in a safer, more cautious way. The world also turned smaller when he was up so high, and the problems plaguing his heart seemed simpler. While most of his lonely nights were spent in his loft, wading through the day's drifting waters like a man foolishly trying to swim upstream, other nights, the nights he needed _something_, he came to a darker side of Metropolis to engage in this new form of personal solitude. Jumping rooftops was an activity he didn't speak of to anyone - not even her, his latest source of comfort. It was just something he had to do alone.

But he did jump into her section of the city every night. So he knew it very well.

Chloe lived in a less than stellar, lower class neighborhood of the city. It was a far cry from midtown exquisiteness, but thankfully a few notches above Suicide Slum. Every visit he made here reminded him of the poor neighborhoods in Italy or France he always saw in history books and travel magazines of the European countryside. Laundry was hung on rope outside windows, stretched to full length between alleyways. The light of day witnessed shouts of greeting from one side of the neighborhood to the other, and kids were seen daily, playing soccer on the sidewalks after school. And during a midday weeknight everything was deathly quiet, save for the occasional noise of traffic or the conversation from lovebirds taking a leisurely, midnight stroll.

However, lower class neighborhoods were usually not an exception to the social congestion of a weekend in the city. But tonight Clark noticed how strangely calm the area felt. Maybe these local city dwellers knew of the madness raging inside of him, and readily gave him a clear path to the only anecdote he had left. Maybe they knew not to get in his way.

After he made his final jump and reached the rooftop of the building directly next to Chloe's, he looked to the ground below to watch for any people. The building he currently stood stretched a little further into the sky than the rest around it - a good ten stories or more, he figured. When he was certain he was alone, he jumped down into the hidden alleyway nestled between the buildings. Due to the late hour, he didn't expect he'd have to combat the small possibility of being seen while he swooped down from high. Nightfall brought with it inherent layers of darkness characteristic to every poor section of Metropolis. Those layers helped blanket his Kryptonian movement all the time, even when he had to be mindful of curious glares.

Such darkness also helped him hide what he was truly feeling, which traveled through his bloodstream like ice water every time he came here. On nights driven by pure adrenaline, he could almost forget the downward slope of his life completely.

The moment his feet landed hard on the ground, he sighed deeply and wondered if this was how Peter Parker felt when he tried to move around New York City undercover. Chloe once mentioned to him the likelihood of having to take on an alias to hide his true identity. She jokingly suggested tights, but he quickly diffused the idea with an annoyed glare. Tights were never his style.

Clark let his wayward thoughts fall away with every step closer to her apartment, to the warmth he craved from her touch. He walked to the end of the alleyway, then turned the corner, thankful he knew the path to her apartment almost as well as he knew his way home. Thoughts of their last, sensual meeting crept back into his mind teasingly, and for the first time since he left Lana standing on the sidewalk back in Smallville, Clark wondered what on earth he could say to Chloe. No question she would see the vulnerability in his eyes. She might even catch a glimpse of his pain, as well, no matter how hard he tried to mask it. He was never good at lying to her.

Up ahead the stone steps to her apartment building's main entrance appeared. Another tenant was exiting the building just as Clark climbed the stairs, and rather than alert Chloe to his arrival by punching the intercom next to the door, he held the door open and slipped inside before it could lock him out. Stairs inside the small lobby led up to the floors above. He climbed quickly to the fourth floor, though not as quickly as he would have liked. A few people passed him on the stairs, though no one seemed to even notice he was there. He distantly wondered why security wasn't tighter in her building due to the heightened criminal activity in the area, but then remembered the average income of each tenant. This was no Luthor Building, to be sure, and he made a note to visit more often.

Once he reached the fourth floor, Clark walked out of the stairwell and into the hallway. Each floor looked like an exact replica of the one below it, and each hallway was decorated with the same, bleak green color. Newcomers might find the hallway floors difficult to navigate, but Clark, from experience, knew which turns he had to make to reach Chloe's apartment door. The floors were a maze not easily mastered when in a hurry. Sheepishly, he still remembered how long it took him to find her apartment on his first try less than a month ago. He eventually had to call her on his cell phone to ask for directions, which she found incredibly amusing. She pulled him playfully inside her apartment when he finally found her, and promised to draw him a map the next time he visited.

In less than thirty seconds, Clark found himself standing at her door again, but not with the same mild, meaningless relief seeping in his heart. Strangely, though he came here to talk about his problems, he now had no wish to discuss them. They only made him feel inadequate and unworthy. He spent most of his evenings delving through his problems, only to come out on the other end with the same perspective - failure. _His_ failure. If he had only listened to Jor-El in the beginning, none of his would have happened. His father would still be alive, and maybe he would have planned a wedding rather than a funeral.

Regardless of the reason or the why, something in the universe wanted to make sure he would never make it work with Lana. Further still, maybe his father's death needed to be apart of his emotional infrastructure, to guide him for the rest of his life. Maybe it was a burden he needed to carry for some higher purpose.

Clark sighed deeply. Then he knocked on the door.

His mind felt like a train wreck, and he longed for the clarity Chloe seemed to give him. Though his thoughts over the last few minutes should have given him insight, he still had no idea what to say to her, or how to explain why he suddenly wanted to be on her doorstep. It had been three silent days since they made love in the Daily Planet basement. And maybe Chloe had been right all along when she said they merely had sex to help them escape their emotional scars. The time he spent with Chloe in bed helped him forget the turmoil in his life just as well as jumping on those rooftops - if not better. When she left him the next morning after their wonderful night together, and when she walked away from him in the stock room, just minutes after he had been inside of her, the pain she erased by her presence came marching back into his heart.

Yet it was a new pain: a pain someone feels after they were just rejected by the one they loved. He knew because ... well, because he'd felt it before.

The door suddenly opened, and Clark found his eyes staring deeply into the face of his savior.

Chloe smiled guardedly, rightfully surprised with his unannounced visit.

Clark?" she ventured worriedly. By the tone of her voice, he knew she had caught a glimpse of his sadness. "Why are you -- ?"

But before Chloe had the chance to say another word, Clark stepped through the door, cupped her face, and kissed her.

She hesitated against him at first, both in her body language and in her neglect to return his kiss. Clark worried he had made a mistake by being so bold. Boldness let him have Chloe for an unforgettable romp in the Daily Planet basement, followed by another rejection of his feelings close on its heels. Chloe almost escaped his sexual assertiveness then, anxious to spare them both the heartache certain to follow if they engaged so aesthetically in lovemaking. But overcome by the electricity between them, she gave in. She gave in; let him take her another time. Let him bury his life inside of her where neither could forget anytime soon.

But the boldness never gave him her. Not completely.

And just as he began to question his hasty actions, she finally responded to his touch. Chloe's hands dropped to his waist, gripped his belt through his shirt. Her lips melted into his mouth, like her small frame disappeared into his body. Clark heard the door shut next to them, enclosing them in her apartment alone. He vaguely wondered which one of them had such forethought, but lost the desire to know when she deepened the kiss. Urgently he moved them deeper into her living room, until her back landed hard against a wall. A lamp next to her couch lit the tiny space enough for him to see, for him to recognize and feel what was going to happen again. The _something_ he had been searching since his father's death. The very _something_ that made him jump rooftops across Metropolis just to get here faster.

The _something_ that made living bearable.

Her aroma overtook him, drew him into her deeper than ever before. Lips once dancing over her mouth slipped sensually down the side of her neck, eager to taste her sweet skin. His hands came alive and circled her waist, then moved up underneath her sweater to feel the graceful arch of her back. She leaned her head against the wall behind her, initially surrendering to him. Kisses to her throat turned heatedly into nibbles and bites, leaving marks to help them remember the next day. He could feel her muscles clenching nervously underneath his caress, matching the fast beat of her heart. Her hands cupped the back of his neck, holding him close.

Then she whispered something faintly to the air. Something he didn't quite hear on the first try. Clark found the latch of her bra with his fingers, hardly giving her words a second thought.

After his fingers found the soft underside of her breast, she tried to say it again, though much weaker than before.

But this time he heard it.

"We can't ..." Chloe whispered, swallowing hard. She gripped the back of his neck insistently. "Clark ... we can't do this again."

Clark lifted his mouth from her throat, to her cheek. Then he gazed up into her face. She was breathing hard already, which was music to his ears. He loved making her lose control. And the plea from her lips wasn't necessarily unexpected. But this time he was ready for it. This time he knew exactly what to say.

Pressing his forehead to hers, he persisted softly, "Yes ... we can. I need you, Chlo. You have no idea how much I need you."

Chloe shook her head, and dipped her eyes to the floor. "Clark, what you're saying --"

"It's the truth," he promised. "Please, Chloe ... love me. I need you to love me."

She looked back up to him, eyes widened at the chime of his words.

He cupped her cheek. "Just love me."

Gently she glided her fingers through his hair, soothing him, and healing him more with every stroke. Genuine confusion had slipped into her features, forming deep lines of concentration on her beautiful face. Clark could tell she wanted to say something, but had trouble finding the words. Nothing between them had ever been easy. Since they met, their friendship grew with underlying layers of possibilities, of paths their love could embark upon if ever given the chance. And for the first time in their lives they were both feeling love's romantic push.

Everything between them was changing.

Clark stroked his thumb along her cheekbone, and then drew her in for another kiss. Unlike their first, Chloe didn't hesitate in her response. Her lips moved with his the moment they touched, letting him take the lead. His heart sped just a little faster when he sensed her willingness to continue on with what she had so adamantly described as a mistake. Regardless, they were here now ... both engaging in the mistake for the third time, fully and completely.

Their kiss strengthened underneath the lamp light, in the silence settled contentedly between them. Neither, for the next few hours, had to say another word. Unspoken love was the only form of communication they needed, seen and felt through each caress, and each kiss. Rising passion drove them closer to the couch, the same piece of furniture they used when they watched a late night movie in her apartment. Without breaking contact with his lips for more than a few seconds, Chloe started to descend backwards on the couch, urging Clark to follow her. He stretched his form on top of her completely once she was comfortable; then fell into the easiness of just kissing her. Kissing her, nudging his tongue between her lips, and letting this desire unfold in its own, pleasurable time.

Clothes were removed next. With it, former inhibitions lost all foot-hold, as well.

Clark made love to her slowly, gently, like a man uncertain if he would ever have the chance to love the woman in his arms again. He treasured every moan from her lips, and every time they stopped just to stare into each other's eyes through the darkness, searching for meaning, for definition. He ran his hands over the curve of her hips, kissing a path from the base of her neck down to her waist. He kissed the inside of her thighs with delicacy, and smiled when he felt her squirm underneath him. His soft fingertips traced the outline of her breasts, then moved further south along her smooth stomach, discovering the sensation of her sexual excitement, and the way her body reacted to his tenderness. Her muscles clenched and coiled when he found a pleasure point, which he kept constant pressure upon until she whimpered and begged. He navigated her body at her demand, using every sound from her lips as a gauge for what she enjoyed the most.

By the end, no patch of skin had gone un-kissed. No inch of his heart remained uncovered.

Time stood still when they finally became one. Clark stayed still until he absolutely had to move, holding Chloe's gaze like a lifeline. Her hands drifted into his hair, clenched his dark locks desperately when he nudged forward, sending shockwaves through her body. Wave after wave cascaded through her, making her shudder under his touch and gasp into his shoulder.

Through the darkness, he found her once more. She cleansed his pain. And the world made sense again.

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**_tbc_**


	10. Chapter 10

_Memories are just where you laid them  
Drag the waters til the depths give up their dead  
What did you expect to find?  
Was it something you left behind?  
Don't you remember anything I said when I said,_

_Don't fall away and leave me to myself  
Don't fall away and leave love bleeding in my hands, in my hands again  
And leave love bleeding in my hands, in my hands  
Love lies bleeding_

_ - Hemorrhage (In My Hands), Fuel_

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_**The Next Morning ...**_

Metropolis had been eerily quiet during the early hours of Friday morning. Lying on her back, Chloe listened intently for predawn sounds. Birds chirped from the rooftops, sirens raced by her building, and delivery trucks, carrying everything from fresh flour to fruits and vegetables, stood outside bakery shops and the local grocery just down the street. Besides the sounds, she was also drawn to the first rays of sunlight shimmering through her window, glazing the distant horizon in sparkling yellow. She had spent the entire night on her living room floor, going in and out of sleep as her exhaustion and sexual desire called for it. Next to her, Clark slept soundly, his face finally glowing with his adorable tenderness. The love they shared during the night had washed away his disdain for the world, and for the first time since his father's death, Chloe finally recognized him. Surely his pain would return, but for now he was peaceful, rested and content. And it was the most pleasant sight she had ever seen.

Moved by her lover's stillness, Chloe turned and propped her head up on her elbow to watch him sleep. He was lying on his side, facing her, with a blanket up to his waist, and his head resting on a pillow. They used extra blankets from her closet to make the floor as comfortable as possible. Pillows were taken from the couch, though only Clark saw fit to use one. Blushingly, Chloe realized she had rested her head on Clark the entire night - his chest, shoulder, or stomach being her favorite spots. A stray hair had fallen loosely onto his forehead, and with a gentle wisp of her hand, Chloe tucked it back up into his thick locks. Thoughts of their night together surged back into her mind as she touched him again. She felt more confused now than ever, unsure of what her heart truly wanted. Loving Clark Kent was never easy.

After a few more minutes passed, Chloe finally decided it was time to start the day. She grabbed one of the extra blankets and wrapped it around her shoulders, hiding her nakedness. The shades on her windows were drawn, but there was no need risking the chance of giving one of her new neighbors a striptease. She stood up wobbly, finding it difficult to gain her balance after spending so much time on the floor. A shower sounded nice, but the demand of coffee overrode every other early morning necessity. Quickly she walked over into her kitchenette and started to make the first pot of her most prominent addiction. Good reporters needed their daily fix, no matter how unhealthy it might be.

While she spooned coffee into the filter, then filled the coffee pot with water, her thoughts centered on Clark. He came to her last night in a flint of desperation, craving her comfort, and before the clock struck midnight they were making passionate love on her living room couch. It amazed her how quickly she lost all sense of mind when she was in his presence. The last three days without him in her life helped her rebuild the emotional barriers she used to guard her heart - the very same emotional barriers he had so easily crumbled with just the touch of his hand all week long. She went to work like a normal citizen, thinking only of the tasks ahead rather than the image of her late night lover. By the forthcoming weekend she was certain the days away from Clark would make her forget what they shared, or help her peg it merely as an unfortunate lapse in good judgment.

She believed days spent away from Clark would solve the chaos raging through her heart.

But Chloe opened her door to him, and within minutes all the chaos returned, hard and relentless. His kisses clouded her sensibility. His touch blinded what she believed as truth. And by then, it was too late. She had surrendered to him again, both in mind and in body.

All he needed now was her spirit.

In the silence surrounding her, Chloe heard the coffee begin to brew, along with the purr of Clark's breathing coming from the living room. She didn't want to think of last night anymore than she had to, so she busied herself with fixing breakfast. After she gathered two mugs from her cupboards for the coffee, she then searched her refrigerator and kitchen area for something edible to eat. The Chinese take-out from a few days ago looked less than appealing, as did the box of pizza left over from her late night with Lois. Thankfully she found the two muffins Clark had bought for them the day before still lying on her counter, and decided they would have to do. _If Clark wanted something more he would have to make it himself_, she mused.

Soon the coffee was finished, and she poured some into each mug. She fixed her coffee the way she liked it - extra sugar, even more cream. Clark enjoyed only the latter, which she poured rather liberally into his mug. She stirred the contents until the black surface of each coffee turned the color of mocha, mindful to remember which cup was hers. The mugs were carried in first, followed a minute later by the two muffins, all placed on the coffee table a few feet away from their bed of blankets and pillows on the floor.

When she returned the second time with the muffins, Clark was beginning to awake. He watched her through hazy eyes, smiling when she sat down next to him, realizing she was wearing nothing but a blanket. He half expected to find her missing when he finally opened his eyes, with only a note of regret in the place where she once lay. She had practically flown out of his arms the moment she awoke the morning after their first night together, making him fear their passion was merely a hiccup in the status quo.

This time, their third sexual encounter in the last five days, Chloe didn't race away at first light or at the moment their shared climax subsided. But she didn't exactly stay with him, either. She wasn't dressed or showered before he awoke, which was certainly an encouragement. Yet she also hadn't given him a chance to wake up next to her, as lovers so often do. He wanted to feel her in his arms, knowing she had not moved since they made love. Strange as it sounded, he wanted to hold her until she absolutely had to leave so she wouldn't be late for work.

Even better, he wanted to _make _her late for work.

"Hi," he whispered simply, lazily, letting his concerns slide from his thoughts for now.

Chloe smiled into his eyes. "Hi, yourself."

"What time is it?"

"You tell me, Farmer Kent. I thought all country folk used the height of the sun in the sky as their absolute time piece."

"Not this folk," he murmured. He lifted up on his elbow, then shifted closer to her. Tentatively, he reached over and slid his hand underneath her blanket, grazing his fingertips along her thigh. Her skin felt warm and soft under his touch, and he realized she had not lost a degree of sensuality over night. Flashes of their lovemaking glimmered in front of his eyes, and he discovered his need for her still boiling inside of him, burning much stronger than when he first arrived.

Lowering his gaze, he recalled timidly, "Four times."

Chloe nodded, but found no way to reconcile the sting of her shame. "Yeah."

Clark's touch on her thigh moved higher, making her tense with the anticipation of what was sure to come.

"I've never been with anyone this many times."

She paused, took a soft breath as she watched him kiss her shoulder through the blanket. Even with the fabric as protection, she could still feel his heat against her.

"Me neither," she finally admitted, unable to stop herself from saying the name of his only other lover in her mind. Did he just admit he and Lana didn't have sex as often as their actions professed during the first trimester of their relationship?

His kisses moved from her shoulder to the curve of her neck, where his lips found bare skin. Unable to temper her physical arousal very well, Chloe let her eyelids close, and let the first hints of her need unfold. Her heart started to drum against her chest, just as her entire body trembled with fresh, yet familiar excitement she had grown so accustomed. No doubt she wanted him now, with fervor no less powerful than what she felt on the night they spent on his worn couch in his loft less than a week ago. She never imagined her love for Clark Kent came with a deep, carnal need to feel him inside of her. Only when he was there, moving above her, body glistening in the limelight, did Chloe fully understand the depth of her love for him.

The two ends of the spectrum, the physical and the emotional, converged whenever he made love to her, so tenderly, so passionately. She never left their sexual rendezvous' without having stroked the highest plane of ultimate pleasure - Clark made sure of that. So it was no wonder why she so often fell asleep in his arms afterwards, drenched completely with exhaustion because of what they had just done. There was no way to adequately describe the intensity, nor the fulfillment she routinely embodied in the afterglow, in those minutes just after they were finished, in those minutes when she could feel the warmth of his release still quivering at her core.

And it was the reason why she so easily surrendered, no matter how often her mind told her of the consequences, or of the heartache that might follow. It was why she hated to see him with anyone else, and why she came back to him, even after three days of denial.

Her weathered, emotional attachment to Clark now came with the physical, as well. She no longer had to wonder what it would feel like to have sex with him, as she too often did while pining for him from afar. Her yearning for him had grown into something far more serious, and something not so easily ignored. Because after having felt him inside of her, she could think of little else.

His hand, once resting safely on her thigh, had found it's way between her legs. Chloe shivered against him when she realized he was so close, mere millimeters from pulling her into the drifting waters of their reckless love. His innocent kisses to her neck turned into insistent nibbles and bites, marking her skin with the need blazing through his heart. The blanket around his waist fell by a few inches, revealing just a portion of his outward expression of his love for her. Chloe opened her eyes for only a moment; long enough to catch a glimpse of him, of what she already knew he wanted, before she quickly closed them again. The sight of his arousal had only made her want him more, and she cursed herself for even trying to look. She knew it would only make denying him that much harder.

Her hand slipped up into his thick hair, then tightened into a fist when the first flair of tingling sensation coursed through her veins. Clark was doing it again ... he was taking her, readying her for the love neither quite understood, but, once experienced in a dingy barn loft, could not survive a midsummer night without.

Her mind screamed for her to stop this before it went too far.

Of course, she knew all too well the futility of giving herself such warning. Not an inch of her body wanted to stop this.

Expectantly, while contemplating the rights and wrongs of their actions, Chloe found her body arching into him. His touch at her center continued to rub and caress in all the right spots, encouraged by her response, by the noises suddenly spilling from her mouth. The lips buried into her neck had found their way up to her jaw line, biting and worrying her skin relentlessly. Far back in her mind, beneath the cocktail of mixed emotions battling for supremacy, Chloe sensed she would have to wear a turtleneck for the next few days to hide the marks of love Clark left on her throat. _No need arousing her friends' already heightened suspicions. _

Clark kissed her chin, her nose, then finally found the graceful curve of her lips. Chloe kissed him back automatically, as if everything she deemed wrong about the action didn't matter in the least. They had spent the entire night doing this - kissing, touching, and making love. So giving into him took no extra coaxing, and in little time she began to feel the first waves of her unconditional surrender washing over her. Both of her hands were now buried in his dark locks, holding him still as she deepened their kiss. His lips were sweet and toxic, warm and wet to her own. He moaned into her mouth when she grazed her tongue to his, making him double his efforts to please her, to make her cry against him.

But before she let the demand of the moment take hold, Chloe suddenly comprehended the power she possessed over Clark. He had surrendered to her just as easily as she to him, giving no sensible thought to the consequences of their actions. Chloe had traveled through the barrage of her own emotions since they began their sordid affair, but quickly remembered Clark had his own issues here. Their relationship had more than once been defined as co-dependent, both before they crossed the sexual threshold, and afterwards.

So consumed with her desire last night, she had forgotten the reason why they hooked up last weekend - their mutual need to hide their pain. And though Clark professed his love for her over the past week, both by his words and by the force of his lovemaking while he held her up against the wall of a stock room, she couldn't let him fog her mind with empty promises. Any man, alien or not, could be brainwashed by the frequency of sex, especially when it was with someone they cared for. Clark found obvious comfort in her touch, because he trusted her far more deeply than either fully understood. He needed someone tangible, someone real to wipe away the pain branding his heart.

He was looking for what she could give him, for the way she could make him forget. He wasn't looking for _her_.

And no matter how difficult it was, Chloe had to make the separation for the both of them. _The physical, the emotional _... for them, it could never mix. No matter how deeply it validated, or strengthened her love for him, she couldn't believe he felt the same way. It was too soon after Lana, too soon after he lost his father.

It was too soon to mistake true love for pleasurable consolation.

While she re-evaluated their situation, Clark had pressed the issue in his own way. He drifted his lips from her mouth down to her neck, to her chest, and finally to her breasts. Chloe's breath caught in her throat when he started to suck and tease, compromising her conviction to stop him before they made this mistake again. Her body betrayed her, of course, as it always did. She began to feel the warm tingle of her excitement overwhelm her once more, and the reasons to surrender began to trickle back into her senses.

_Because she loved him, because her love has only grown since this began, because they've done this so many times now, what's one more? ... Because she can almost believe him. Because in his kiss, in his eyes, in his thrust, she can almost feel him loving her in return, and with all of his heart._

Chloe gripped his hair again, but this time for a different purpose - she needed to fight the feelings he was awakening inside of her. She just didn't have the will to entertain them again, only to leave them afterwards as if they didn't exist.

She just couldn't do it anymore.

"Clark," she whispered, biting her lip. "Maybe we should talk about why you came here last night."

Clark pressed his lips into her left breast, and then racked his teeth over the nipple. "Why?" he mumbled, keeping his attention on his task.

"Because I think it's important," she replied, pulling his face away from her breasts. Changing the subject was the best way to keep his mind off of her for now, until she could regain control of the moment. "And please don't tell me you came here because you knew you'd get laid," she added with a kiss to his nose, sensing the need to keep the mood light.

He smirked, but the change in his eyes spoke of his sincerity. There had been a reason why he came here, and it had nothing to do with revisiting their forbidden passion - at least not at first.

After a long pause, he finally spoke.

"I needed to talk to someone," he admitted, glancing down, trailing his fingers up from her center to her stomach.

"About what?"

"It doesn't matter."

Chloe cupped his face. "It matters. I enjoyed last night immensely, but ... I knew something was wrong. The fast-paced, B-movie porno style of lovemaking you blessed me with in the stock room was replaced by the tentativeness of an over-dramatized soap opera."

He frowned. "You didn't like me going slow? I thought all woman wanted slow."

"No, no, I didn't say that," she insisted, grazing her fingertips across his shoulder. "I love slow just as much as the next Nicholas Sparks' heroine. But when you touched me, I could … I could sense your sadness."

"Can't we just drop this?"

"You wanted to talk."

"Yeah ... last night, while I was standing outside of your door. I don't want to now."

Chloe shrugged. "Well, now you're inside with no excuses."

Clark sighed and pursed his lips, knowing all too well how useless it would be to try and change her mind. When she wanted something, she rarely gave up. It angered him sometimes when he realized how well she knew him. Of course, since they've made love, her knowledge of his heart, of his whole, only grew. And in all honesty, he _had_ loved her differently last night. No less, but differently all the same. Rather than answer the burn of his animalistic desire, he took his time enjoying her, as if at any minute she would disappear from his arms.

Melodramatic or not, he didn't want to wake up one morning and find himself completely alone. And it was possibly one of the main reasons why he searched for Chloe last night. He needed to know she was real – that their love was real.

He turned from her, then shifted his body and sat between her legs, leaning back far enough so he could rest his head on her shoulder. Chloe smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind, unable to hide her smile when he reached up and laced his fingers through hers.

He brought her palm to his lips, kissed it, then revealed quietly, "I had an argument with my mom."

Chloe nodded, burying her face in the nape of his neck. "When?"

"A few days ago."

"What did you argue about?"

Clark remained silent. Chloe could feel his muscles tense the second the question slipped from her mouth. Lately, only one subject could make him grow quiet whenever it unintentionally ventured into their conversations. Because of his reaction, she made the extra effort to change the subject before it overwhelmed them. She had no desire to cause Clark further pain, and often used his moods to determine the best way to help him while he suffered through such a dismal chapter of his life. Usually helping him meant allowing him to take the lead in their together time. If he wanted to stay silent in concern with his feelings, then so be it. If he wanted to spend their together time watching a movie, then so be it.

But today, Chloe sensed the need to press for more.

"You know it's okay to argue about him. Both of you lost something priceless, and there's no special, magical remedy you can stir in a cauldron to make the pain go away, or to turn back time."

He sighed deeply. "It's all we do - argue about him. And the farm, and my life." He gazed at their interlaced fingers, then rubbed his thumb along the back of her hand affectionately, lost in thought.

When he remained quiet after another minute or so, Chloe considered poking him for more information. He took extra time lately to find the right words to discuss his father. Sometimes the long pause produced no results, only silence existing on levels of sadness too thick to wade through.

She began to wonder then if pressing the issue was such a good idea after all.

However, just before she had the chance to say something, or to apologize for bringing it up when he wasn't ready, he started to speak again.

"The farm was Dad's life. He spent every waking moment on it, managing it. I learned so many things about farming and about life from him. He taught me so much of what he knew. And there was so much more he needed to teach me before he died. It was his dream, his family heritage. And _my_ family heritage. There is no way I am going to let what mattered the most to him slip away."

"So you think just because he found contentment and happiness in fields of crops and cattle, that you need to, as well? Because he expected his only son to be a farmer, too?"

"It's what he always wanted. For me to follow in his footsteps, and to take care of the farm when he was gone."

Chloe looked to him and felt amazed he didn't see. "I will agree that the Kent Farm is a Smallville shrine, mostly due to the endless time and effort your father placed in it. But it wasn't his life." She let the words settle for a moment, and then added with a whisper, "You were."

Clark grew silent when the declaration came from her lips. Chloe rested her chin on his shoulder, once again feeling his muscles tense underneath her touch. The conversation was making him uncomfortable, and perhaps it was because he knew the words he spoke were untrue. And the words she said made perfect sense.

His heart, still scarred by the gut-wrenching loss of the only father figure in his life, could think of no life choice more appropriate than staying in Smallville, tending to the farm, to the memory of a person who gave him shelter when he needed it the most. In a way, the devotion she saw in Clark's eyes was admirable. She loved her own father just as deeply as Clark had loved his, so she understood the reasons why he wanted to keep everything in his life the way it was.

_More accurately, keep everything in his father's life the way it was, before he died tragically of a heart attack, and way before his time. _

Clearly, Clark had associated the Kent Farm with his father's soul, and believed as long as the former stayed in business, the latter would never leave. But this association, though understandable, was certainly misplaced.

"Mom tried to give me an application for college. I threw it away," he mumbled softly.

Chloe hugged her arms tighter around his chest, hearing the sadness in his voice grow thicker. She knew now, more than ever, that he needed to listen to what she had to say - that he needed someone to make sense.

"I hate to leave you and be an advocate for the other side here, but I agree with her. If you truly want to spend the rest of your life on this farm, and take up your father's business, then I am all for it. If this is what makes you happy, then who is anyone to tell you otherwise? Farming is an admirable profession, and though I see you as the hero in tights type, I certainly won't stop being your friend. Being Smallville's personal super hero is low scale, but honorable nonetheless."

Clark leaned back into her further. "But?"

She pressed her lips to his ear. "But you have to travel the farming career path for you, not him. If you have an aspiration to be something else, to go other places, then do it. Clark, you have more potential energy inside of you than the very spaceship that brought you here. You can do anything you want, because you're intelligent, smart, wonderful. Not to forget, you can do things that us earthlings can only see in movie theatres via cheap graphics - or only read about in the science fiction section of the Metropolis Public Library."

"Are you calling me abnormal?" he asked, slightly amused, though he could not hide the hint of seriousness in his voice.

"No," Chloe insisted, rubbing her left palm over his heart. "I'm calling you special. I'm calling you someone who can give people hope. And I'm saying this because I know what it feels like to be on the business end of one of your heroic rescues, and ... because I know what you're capable of."

Clark gazed down to his lap, clearly unconvinced by her heartfelt pleas. But unlike his conversation with his mother, he wasn't angry with Chloe because of her suggestions for his life, even though they mirrored the same words he and his mother argued over time and again since his father's death. However, he also wasn't happy with her suggestions, either, and rather than risk saying something he might regret later, he decided to change the subject. The discussion of his father, for now, was over.

"You brought me coffee?" he asked quietly, drawing his eyes from his lap to the mugs sitting on the coffee table beside them.

Chloe nodded, realizing she had pressed the issue of his father as far as it would go. But it was a start, and that was good enough.

"Yeah," she said. "Feel lucky, because I don't share my precious coffee reserve with just anyone."

Clark smiled softly, the tension from before draining from his face. "I know. I should feel privileged."

"You should," she mused, grabbing the mug on the left and handing it to him. "Being given a mug of coffee from my reserve is as lucrative as being given a pound of gold from Fort Knox."

"Why does that make sense to me?"

"I think it's a sign you've been around me too long."

He laughed and took a sip from the mug. The taste of the creamy coffee soothed the remaining tension inside of him, and before long Chloe could feel him growing completely comfortable in her arms. The conversation about his father felt like a distance memory in less than thirty seconds, leaving her to wonder if they'll ever get the chance to discuss it again. His dismal outlook on life worried her deeply. Though she understood his foul mood had everything to do with his father's death, it still didn't make hearing his sadness any easier. She just hoped something would help him through it soon.

Chloe reached for her own mug and took a sip. Not surprisingly, she noticed only her muffin was left out of the two she had placed on the coffee table only a few minutes ago. Clark, while she waded through her concern for him, had quickly devoured the blueberry, and was now half way through with his coffee.

"Hungry?" she chided. "It's all this unpaid, Daily Planet intern can afford. So digest slowly."

Clark shrugged sheepishly, finishing his coffee. "What did you expect?" he asked, turning his head to the right to look at her. He smiled when he felt her breath grazing the surface of his cheek. "You famished me last night."

Noticeably, she blushed, but still found the sense of mind to bite back. "You're not much of a super hero if I exhausted you so easily."

He brought his hand up to hers still splayed across his chest, and laced their fingers together. "You underestimate yourself," he whispered, tilting just a bit more so their lips were inches apart. After a motionless second, he captured her lips for the hundredth time that week. He let the kiss continue long enough for him to feel her wetness, to feel her softness, before he lingered away.

They stared at each other for a seemingly endless stretch of time, in silence and longing. It was Chloe's turn to feel uncomfortable this morning, no matter the urgency she felt to let the two of them engage in a quickie before she had to go to work. The mistake, of course, would be torture for her the rest of the day, as she would not be able to escape the recent, and fresh sensation of having him inside her.

Making love to him at night, hours before the dawn of morning, helped shroud their imperfect actions. And though she still thought of it periodically throughout the next day, the feel of him was more of a ghostly touch rather than a true indentation. If they made love just hours before work, she would find herself sitting at her desk, struggling to concentrate long enough to write. Frankly, she wouldn't get anything done. Even if she showered, his aroma would still cling to her body like static for the entire day, and make her remember everything, every touch and every kiss, before it finally receded.

So for someone who was trying to convince herself that a relationship with Clark Kent wouldn't work, having sex with him right now would be the worst thing she could do. _If only I could obey that rule on a routine basis_, she thought.

Chloe turned away from him, breaking the spell. "I'm going to go shower," she whispered, pulling away.

But Clark grabbed both of her wrists and wrapped her arms around his neck before she could escape completely. He tilted his head again, enough to nuzzle under her chin as he spoke. "Want me to join you?"

She couldn't suppress the giggle in her throat. Unfortunately, because of their latest sexual acts, Clark knew exactly where to touch her to make her laugh. Better yet, to seduce her to give in. Gratefully, the thought of being late for work because of him was still fresh on her mind, and she closed her eyes and her heart against his pleas. "No, I don't think that's a good idea," she hummed, biting her lip, wishing her denial sounded far more concrete.

"Call in sick today," he murmured against her skin. His tongue swiped at her throat, in just the right spot to cause her toes to curl.

_Stay strong ... don't let him do this again. _

Chloe shook her head adamantly. "The flu bug from hell sapped all of my sick days in January," she lied, "so I really can't."

He kissed her throat one last time before he slipped away. Apparently, he seemed convinced by her words - or, at least, by her stubborn determination not to let anything happen between them right now. He nodded and rubbed her hand over his chest once more. "Okay," he conceded. "But I'm officially taking a rain check."

"Why don't you get some more coffee while you wait?" she replied, ignoring his promise the best she could. Unfortunately, he didn't know yet of her intentions not to make love to him ever again. "I'll be out in a few minutes."

He nodded once more and watched her stand. The blanket slid from her shoulders enough to reveal the round, plump beauty of her breasts to the air. Unabashedly, he stared at her intently as she turned and walked away, stapling the image of her perfect body to his thoughts for the hundredth time. He had no qualms admitting he loved to stare at her, especially when she was naked. Though this activity was indicative to most men when it concerned the gender of women as a whole, Clark truly discovered a deep, unique love for Chloe's body that differed from the other women he was attracted to. She hated it when he mentioned it, so he chose to keep his admiration of her physical beauty to himself.

But it didn't stop him from staring.

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**_tbc_**


	11. Chapter 10a

_A/N: This section is an extension to the last._

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Chloe glanced over her shoulder only once to catch a glimpse of him before she vanished into the bathroom. The look of lust on his face whenever he stared at her always made her feel uneasy, and this instance had been no different. She tried to let the events of the morning drift back into a sensible perspective, reminding herself repeatedly that sleeping with Clark had been a mistake from the beginning. She berated herself forever allowing it to happen last Saturday, while both she and Clark were wading dangerously through their personal trials.

Unfortunately, stress and vulnerability had led to great sex, and in turn led them here, five days later with a question to answer; _was this real? _

After she removed the blanket from her shoulders, Chloe decided to unfold her concerns within the shower awaiting her. She turned on the shower faucet to let the water warm up while she retrieved the necessary accessories: a huge, white bath towel and a washcloth from the tiny linen closet next to the sink. She placed the huge bath towel on the bathmat next to the tub, and then looped the washcloth over the shower rod for easy reach. Soon enough time lapsed, and Chloe felt confident of the water temperature - though, she still placed her hand underneath to ensure she wouldn't inadvertently give herself a rude wake-up call.

Oddly, once she was satisfied with the temperature of the water and stepped in, letting the shower overcome her senses, she suddenly realized cold water might have had its advantages. Considering she just had sex less than three hours prior, a cold shower might have been the best way to settle her mind, as well as make her thoughts of Clark disappear. Unfortunately, the hot water currently cascading her entire body was already having a sexual affect on her, and shamefully she made no attempt to change it. She should have expected it after she spent most of her night riding on the highest level of pleasure she had ever experienced in her life. Naturally her body's nerves were still heightened tremendously, so anything remotely pleasurable was going to set her off further.

Right now, with the memory of Clark still naked in the next room over, Chloe had to suppress the urge to surrender to what she wanted the most. She concentrated on her current task as best she could. She washed her hair with a flowery shampoo, and then lathered Dove soap over the rest of her body. But even with the extra caution looming heavily in her mind, Chloe struggled to keep her hands away from her waist. Responsively, she spent extra time washing her stomach, breasts and back, trying with every ounce of her will stop herself from giving in.

But the water massaging her skin was driving her absolutely crazy, and, in spite of herself, her right hand had ventured close to the spot where her pelvic bone and upper, right thigh merged.

The simple motion alone caused memories from her night with Clark to dance in front of her eyelids, as her mind began to impulsively answer the call of her body's deepest needs. Each session of their lovemaking glimmered like firelight, all passing through her thoughts in sequence. She remembered when she first opened the door, and when he first pressed her heatedly against the wall, aching for more. His body had felt warm and hard underneath her touch, and even more so after she hastily removed his clothes. What started out as a passionate kiss quickly turned into a mass of arms and legs entwined intimately on the couch. Neither said a word during that first session, because both were afraid just one word could ruin it all.

Clark had taken extra time to pleasure her body, kissing, touching, and licking every spot of skin he came to. The experience was one of complete bliss by the end, to the point where she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from begging.

More than an hour later, while still half drunk with passion from their first sexual release, Chloe felt him nudging her awake insistently by circling her right nipple with the pad of his thumb. By one a.m., they were already in the middle of a second round, the sensuality and sexual drive of which was so intense, so breathtaking that it made them roll off the couch, onto the floor below. Her initial promise to stay mostly mute through the night vanished when he entered her again, much slower and forcibly than the first time. She remembered clutching his shoulders on each long, pleasurable thrust, burying her prayerful moans of his name into the curve of his neck. He had every intention of prolonging their lovemaking for as long as possible, so he stopped his movements in the middle numerous instances when he sensed they were too close to the end. During these short intervals, Clark kissed her passionately, endlessly, burying his panting breaths within the calm of her lips.

Chloe realized than that her heart had never pounded so hard, as when climbing up and down the orgasmic ladder with such frequency and in such a short period of time.

The third and fourth sessions of lovemaking happened closer to dawn, after each had gained a few hours of much needed rest. The third instance was of her own doing, no matter which way she looked at it. For at one point during the night, Chloe awoke to find her head resting leisurely on his chest, with blankets covering their intimate resting state from the world. A glance up to him, a listen to his breathing, ensured her he was still very much asleep. Intoxicated by the softness of his skin, she began to run her hand up and down his side, chest, and stomach. Soon her hand wasn't enough to fully explore him thoroughly, so she pressed her lips to him where she could, without moving her head very far. When she felt him stirring underneath her because of so little stimulation, Chloe climbed on top of him and traveled the contours of his perfect body with careful inspection, with kisses and bites.

In less than five minutes, Clark was squirming anxiously, and more than once her spine shivered when his hands moved up and down her body in search of a distraction. His moans turned into pleas, his hands into a lover's vise on her hips every time she moved, shifted, or pressed down into him. Soon the foreplay wasn't enough, either, and with a pleasure-induced grunt, Clark lifted and lined her hips with him, begging her to make him wait no longer.

_Slide, grunt, push, whimper ... their eyes, their hands locked through the darkness, through the waves of pleasure. _

Chloe suddenly snapped her eyes open when she felt how close her fingertips had come. Clenching her teeth, she tightened her hand into a fist and drew it away from her pelvis, scolding herself for having no self-control. _But was this really a surprise? How many times did she let Clark make love to her? Seven? Eight? Even after she promised never to do it again? _

With a deep sigh, she tilted her head back underneath the water one more time, letting the hot shower scald away every lasting, betraying thought from the night. When she turned off the water and stepped out into the cold bathroom, she reached for her bath towel, feeling renewed, fresh, and clean. Regardless of what _almost_ happened, Chloe discovered the resurgence of her determination laced within the symbolic cleansing of her sins, of her mistakes.

Certain of his motivation, she wouldn't give into him again.

_But even as she promised this, Chloe wondered if it was possible. _

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_**tbc**_


	12. Chapter 10b

_A/N: Hope this section satisfies some of those readers who believed these two should be talking_ _out there problems._ _I promise, everything I write in a story has a purpose, even when it doesn't seem like it. _

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Clark busied himself in her kitchen while she showered and dressed. Aromas never created in Chloe's kitchenette before began to travel through her apartment, making her smile at the thought of him making himself at home. He usually asked her every time he wanted to use something in her apartment, from turning on a lamp to seeking permission to use the bathroom. Back in high school he had been the same way whenever he spent time at her house, though she suspected it had more to do with her father being in the next room. Above all, he wanted to make sure Mr. Sullivan didn't get the wrong idea when the two of them spent time together. Up until a week ago, his homegrown sense of manners hadn't changed.

Then she came to his loft, and every friendship rule of conduct they had pledged to one another had been thrown out the window.

Once Chloe was fully dressed, she stepped out of her bedroom to see exactly what he had prepared. A few minutes before, she discovered a small problem after she finished her shower - she had forgotten to take her clothes into the bathroom with her to avoid any further awkwardness this morning. Fortunately, her bedroom was just a few feet down the hall and out of the direct line of sight to the living room. Yet she still swore under her breath and took a quick inspection of the surroundings before she scooted across to safety.

Shamefully, however, once she was safely hidden behind her door, she peeked back out into the living room to catch a stolen glimpse of him. At that time he had been standing in her kitchenette, wearing only his boxers as he stood over the stove, flipping eggs in a skillet that had rarely been used.

This time when she walked into the living room, she noticed Clark had slipped on his jeans from last night. But for her sightseeing pleasure, he had decided to keep his shirt off for now. She took another look down at her own style of dress, a gray dress skirt and blouse, and felt overwhelmed by the simplistic symbolism of the situation. If she were anywhere else, with anyone else, she could imagine her morning routine playing in just this way- getting ready for work while her boyfriend, who spent more time in her apartment than his own, made breakfast.

"Hey," he called from the stove, turning his head to look at her over his shoulder, breaking her concentration. "Like long showers, I guess."

Responsively, she checked her watch and realized to dress and shower had taken her forty five minutes - and more than half of that time had been spent under hot water, fighting the sexual needs of her body after a night of lovemaking. Hopefully, he just considered her a normal woman who took a lifetime in the bathroom to look public presentable.

_Hopefully._

"Yeah," she conceded softly, strolling into the kitchenette nervously.

Clark didn't seem to notice her change of mood, and upon her entrance, turned and offered her a fresh cup of coffee. "Lots of cream, lots of sugar," he whispered, leaning and kissing her on the cheek. "Your muffin is on the counter there. You still like apple cinnamon, right?"

"Absolutely," she said, gazing at the eggs frying on the stove. "I had a feeling a working woman's breakfast diet of a hundred calories or less wouldn't be enough for a blue-collar farmer."

He smirked. "Don't worry, I made enough for both of us."

Then Chloe heard a soft snap, and looked over to the toaster to see four slices of steaming hot toast peeking over the top of their slots. She watched him handle and set the freshly toasted bread on a plate without a flinch of pain. Sighing softly, she admitted, "I never eat this much for breakfast - sometimes, I don't even eat this much during the day."

Clark squinted his eyes in her direction. "Really?"

"After cell phone bills, car payments, and laundry," she listed briefly, sipping her coffee with a shrug, "My dad's generous donation to the overall well-being of my future career as a reporter only goes so far. He gives me every cent that he can afford, short of forcing him to spend his nights sleeping in his car. I love him for it, for all he gives up for me." Chloe took another sip slowly, thinking. "But it leaves little room for five-star dining."

"This is far from a five-star experience."

"Beats stale muffins and bad coffee from the Daily Planet vending machines."

He moved closer to her, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Drawing her close against him, he kissed her temple, her cheek, and then nuzzled her ear. Despite the conversation she had with herself in the bathroom moments ago, Chloe looped her arms around his waist. It just felt comfortable to do so. "You know you can come and eat with us," he whispered. "Mom and Lois are always good company. Or if you want to eat with just me, I'll make another attempt at stir-fry, and we can eat in front of the fire. Make a date out of it. I'll even provide the transportation."

"I don't know, I had your stir-fry the last time you made it," Chloe chided, scrunching her nose, ignoring his reference to _dating _as best she could. "It took a little more than a heavenly leap of faith to eat it."

"Ouch," he complained softly, smiling. "I think it's time you attended Clark Kent's School of Culinary Arts, so you can see it's not so easy sometimes."

Chloe gently slipped out of his arms as she spoke, hoping he wouldn't try to pull her into his arms again. "If you're stir-fry is an example of your aptitude, then I think my search for a new teacher should begin immediately," she teased softly.

He just smiled again. "You don't hold back, do you?"

"Never."

Clark laughed as he flipped two of the four fried eggs onto a plate with a spatula. Next he placed two slices of toast on either side. He slid the plate across the counter to her when he was done, then fixed a plate of his own. Chloe stared at the food, at the flare of his unheeded generosity. Though the meal was simple and delicious, she still felt a lurch of queasiness settle in her stomach just by looking at it. He was being nice to her. In fact, he was acting _couplish _towards her, as if every issue between them had been resolved last night because of a few rounds in the sack. Honestly, she would probably believe the same thing if the roles were reversed. Chloe asked him to stay away until she was ready. With time having elapsed three days since they last saw each other, how could a night of sex tell him anything different? How could he not think she wasn't ready for the next step?

Why did she let this happen again?

When he noticed she hadn't touched her food, he stepped over to her and encircled her in his arms from behind. "Chlo? Everything all right? Did I miss something?" he asked, lips pressed close to her ear.

She shook her head. "No."

Clark stepped back from her and moved to her right side, then turned, lifted himself up, and sat on the counter so they were facing each other. Mildly surprised by his move, she looked up from her food to gaze at him. He smiled down at her, leaned in, and cupped her cheek with a gentle, soft hand. "You're beautiful," he whispered simply.

Chloe placed her hand over his, and let his compliment slide from her thoughts. With it, her fear drained from her body, as well, giving her the courage to say what needed to be said. The discussion could be put off no longer.

"Clark, we can't keep doing this."

He glanced to their spot on the floor in the living room, then back to her. Rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone, he nodded. "You're right," he said, tone serious. "Next time, I promise ... we'll make it to a bed."

Chloe couldn't help but smile at his tease, even though it tugged at her heart. She giggled, sighed, and looked down at her other hand grazing his thigh. "You know that's not what I mean," she replied softly.

The amusement from the moment faded from his face. "I know."

She set her hand on his knee, shifted closer. "This is just not a good idea."

Clark made her look at him again, tilting her head up with a nudge of his hand. "Why not?" he asked, genuinely.

"Because we started this with hurt-comfort in mind, not love."

"So what?" he pressed, pulling her to stand between his legs that were dangling over the edge of the counter. Cupping her face with both hands now, he insisted again, "I don't care why we started it. I'm just glad we did. I want to be with you, Chloe. Why don't you believe me?"

Standing in his arms, staring into his handsome face, Chloe felt an uncomfortable silence settle between them as she tried to think of the best way to answer him. She knew he meant well, she knew he thought he wanted this. But, deep down, she also knew his love for Lana had not faltered in the least since they broke up a few months ago. He was still hurting from that relationship, just as he was still hurting from his father's death. Nothing important should be decided upon when under such heartbreaking stress, no matter the apparent level of certainty. Eventually, as it always does, the clouds will disappear, and the world will come back into focus.

And the questions will remain - _will he want me then? When everything returns to normal, will he still feel something more than friendship? Or is it just the lust for sex talking?_

"Clark, nothing has changed since Saturday," she said, placing a hand on each of his thighs. "No one wants to be the rebound after a serious relationship."

"Chloe ...," he started to protest.

But she interrupted him before he could go on.

"And the shadow of your father's death still haunts you. I won't take advantage of you like that."

Clark answered her concerns by leaning closer and settling his forehead to hers. She gripped his thighs tightly in reaction, displacing her emotion from her chest, from her tears to her arms and legs. He couldn't see her cry now, in fear of what he was going to say, or what he might try to do. She secretly wished she could teleport herself to work, or perhaps speed-up time altogether. She didn't know how much more of this conversation she could handle.

He kissed her nose, her cheek, and her lips. "You're not a rebound," he whispered, inches away from her. "And in those shadows, you've been my only light."

Chloe shut out his words from her heart, convinced he didn't know what he was saying ... convinced he didn't know what he was suggesting. She tried to pull away gently, but he held her tight, refusing to let her go. Breath caught in her lungs, she breathed softly, desperately, "Clark, please ...".

"No. We need to talk about this."

Tears brimming her eyes now, she whispered, "Why are you making this so hard?"

"Why do you always run away?" he shot back instantly.

It took an endless second for his question to sink in. But when it did - "What?" she asked, stunned.

The sadness she once felt suddenly morphed into anger, utterly shocked by his bravado. Though she saw a sense of regret on his face the moment he said the words, Clark didn't try to take it back. From his perspective, he wanted to make it very clear what he thought was happening here, even if it meant hurting her feelings.

"You always run away. You've been running away from me all week. Every time we get close, you start looking for the nearest exit," he insisted firmly.

Chloe stepped back from him further, her head spinning. Her heart was pounding in her chest because of Clark for the millionth time this week, but for a far different reason. She felt like her entire body was under water, fighting and struggling frantically to find the surface. It was the same game from high school, with the same crappy rules that often left her sitting alone in the Torch office, feeling misunderstood by a friend who made her want to scream. And with a dreadful ache, she realized they were back in that place again. Aside from the nights of lovemaking, it seemed nothing had changed.

"Why do _**I**_ keep running away? Are you kidding me? Do you know how many times I saw the back of your head while _**you**_ walked away from _**me**_?" she answered harshly, glaring at him, struggling to bite back her emotion. "Every time I offered to up the ante in our friendship, you _always _pushed me away. You made it very clear to me who you wanted, and it was never me. Never."

Clark jumped off the counter and moved closer to her. "Chloe ...".

"And you wonder why I have reservations when you suddenly decide you want to be with me after a night of sex? A night that we let happen because we were too blinded by our own misgivings to stop it? A night that happened less than a millisecond after you broke up with Lana?"

He tried to reach for her and comfort her after her outburst, but she slipped away from him and walked around the island counter so it stood between them, acting as a barrier. Her words seemed to quiet his initial frustrations, as she saw a sense of understanding flash over his features. But the determination to convince her of his true intentions remained.

"You're right," he said, staring hard into her eyes. "I've denied you -_ this _- since we've met. I've hurt you because of it. But I knew if we ever tried anything, that you wouldn't have all of me. It wouldn't have been fair to you, and you deserved more than that. I've been in love with Lana for a long time, and it was the reason why I hesitated every time we had the chance to be together. I knew I would only hurt you more if I let it happen back then."

Chloe turned her head away from him defiantly when he inched closer to her, though she did not move. She had no wish to hear more details of his lifelong love for his childhood crush. She had endured more of her share, and more anyone could ask of her considering the pure love she longed to offer him, still harbored and hidden within her. Tears she fought to control were now streaming down her cheeks of their own free will, all because of the helplessness captivating her heart. They had been here before, too, in the middle of football fields, coffee shops, and farms, discussing the rightful status of their friendship. These conversations routinely left her standing alone, vividly aware of her unrequited affection, like the cold chill of a winter's night nipping at her face.

She didn't want to listen to him any further, but he continued, heartfelt and convincing.

"But it's different now. I'm different now. This isn't me trying to erase my pain with a night of lust. This is me realizing what I almost let slip away …" he began, taking another step closer. He reached over, cupped her cheek again, and made her face him. When she didn't recoil or retreat, he moved into her and pressed his body into hers warmly, affectionately, holding her close.

"And this is me realizing how much I want to be with you. I feel horrible that it took sex for it to happen ... but you have all of me now, Chlo," he said softly, sliding his thumb across her lips. "You have all of me."

She heard the warning bells going off in her head after he finished, despite the sincerity in his voice. Their toll was strong enough to keep her from falling deeper into his arms, into his eyes before it was too late. Though his words were sweet and breathtaking, and something no one had ever said to her before, the reasons why they made love at all, his father and Lana, could not be forgotten. She had felt it during their lovemaking - the distance in his kiss, the slow caress of his touch. For her, there was no question why he yearned for her affection.

And there was only one way to know for sure.

"Do you still love her?" she asked suddenly, barely above a whisper.

Clark hesitated before he said anything. By the regretful look in his eyes, Chloe knew he finally understood the purpose of her hesitancy. He didn't want to admit his feelings, and dropped his gaze, avoiding her stare for as long as he could. He tightened his hold around her waist, then, after a long moment, knowing he couldn't lie to her, said softly, "I do ... I still love her."

Chloe could taste the salt from her tears on her lips, as the full weight of what just happened between them began to take form. Even now, after a week of making passionate, memorable love to Clark, she was still second place. She knew this was coming, yet found her heart split in two when faced with the reality. For what she had predicated had come true, and the best way to escape further pain, further rejection ... was to run away.

She slipped out of his arms for the final time that morning, taking her faith with her.

"Then I don't have all of you."

Clark made an attempt to refute, but she didn't let him.

"Go," she pressed, more harshly than she intended.

Clark shook his head desperately, unable to accept this unspoken settlement between them. "No ... this can't be it."

"Then why is it?" she spat in return.

They stared at each other for a long moment, his eyes sad and clouded. Her certainty daunting, unbelievable.

"Leave, Clark ... Go," she insisted again, nudging him towards the door with a gentle push.

"I don't want to."

"I want you to."

He backed up from her carefully; afraid any wrong move could make the situation worse. He waited for her to say something to break the spell in the air, but Chloe remained silent, her will unbroken by the pleas spread across his face. She let the likely outcome of their sordid love affair play out in her mind, acting as the lifeline so she wouldn't drown too far, or lose her soul too deep. Part of her wanted to apologize to him for making him leave. Better yet, a strong part of her wanted to pull him into her arms and never let him go. So much of her had fallen in love with him all over again, and it was the reason why she kept her heartache close. In the thick of it all, everything felt wonderful, delightful, and like nothing else. But she knew once their affair reached the edges of the world, where their lives started to settle in around them, their love would not be strong enough to exist alone.

Outside of the bedroom, their love would gasp for breath.

"You don't mean it," Clark whispered, shaking his head. "I know you don't."

Chloe ignored his insight, even if he was partly correct. Tears started to fall from her eyes again, but she didn't wipe them away, or hide them from his stare. She wanted him to know, through the glare and shimmer on her cheeks, that she wished things were different. She wished he fell in love with her when they first met, and she wished there had never been a Lana Lang living next door to draw his attention away from his best friend.

She prayed their passion filled moments spent on apartment floors, barn loft couches, and Daily Planet stock rooms meant they were in love.

But under the current circumstances, Chloe couldn't afford to believe it.

"Go, Clark," she said again, almost yelling, pointing to the door.

Clark bowed his head with frustration, in denial. Then was gone in a blink of an eye.

The front door swung back and forth, attesting to his exit. Chloe looked around the apartment in surprise, because everything he had brought with him was gone, as well. His shirt, his shoes that were sitting next to the couch ... even their blankets were folded neatly on the floor, as if they were never used. Her apartment, once full of life, now felt vacant and cold.

Only the impression of Clark's touch on her skin spoke of his time spent there. But it was enough to make her discern what she had done ... to go back to the spot on the floor where they only recently made love ... and weep for another chance, come and gone, and thrown into the vacuum of _what could have been_.

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_tbc_


	13. Chapter 11

_**A/N: Thank you everyone for reading so far. **_

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_**Same day ... early afternoon**_

The rest of the day passed quickly, though not without difficulty. Chloe had barely been able to keep her mind on her work throughout the morning because of what happened earlier. She fidgeted with her pencil constantly, and tickled the keys on the keyboard for inspiration, but nothing worthy came of it. Rather appropriately, the image of Clark's face when she told him to leave stayed with her. He had looked so crestfallen and frail as he left, making her wonder if pushing him so hastily out of her apartment this morning was a mistake.

Hours away from their time together, Chloe now found a new perspective inching into her heart - maybe she had been too harsh on him, and maybe she had missed her one chance to be with him. He was trying to poor out his feelings for her, and she merely kicked him away like some annoying cockroach that wouldn't stop circling her feet.

All because she was convinced he couldn't love two women at the same time. Naturally, he would still have feelings for Lana, and maybe expecting those same feelings to be gone completely from his heart so soon after their relationship was asking too much.

And Chloe couldn't help but speculate … _did the feelings he still harbored for Lana really lessen what he felt for __**her**_

_More importantly, was the love between her and Clark real? And if it was, should they allow his dwindling feelings for Lana to stop them from being together?_

She took another long sip of her coffee. After her morning deemed no award winning articles, Chloe decided to spend her lunch hour at a local coffee shop to help clear her head. On her way, she called Lois to ask her to join in on the meal, and thankfully her cousin agreed. She needed to talk to someone about her entire previous week with Clark before she turned completely insane. She had kept her affair with him hidden from her friends far too long, and knew Lois could give her meaningful insight. She just couldn't deal with this alone anymore.

The lunch hour for the tiny coffee shop was extensively busy. Local business people, journalists, and other workers came in here all the time for a quick break or meal. Chloe watched the people strolling in and out like cattle, smiling at the natural tendency of the modern working class. Some stayed at the cafe with their coffee and sandwiches, buzzing on their cell phones or talking erratically to their friends about recent business deals that made them millions. Other costumers had bags and bags of goodies nestled in the crook of their elbows to take back to their fellow employees, cursing all the way from the counter to the door. Watching them struggle, she smirked because she knew the job of lunch retriever for the office was never easy.

Chloe left the Daily Planet especially early for lunch so she could easily grab a table in the cafe before the crowds settled in. However, when she arrived, only tables where patrons could stand at while they drank and ate were left vacant. Currently, she stood at one of those tables towards the back corner with a latte in hand, glaring towards the door, waiting patiently for her cousin's arrival. She checked her watch, then the door once more. Unfortunately, she only had a few minutes left before she had to go back to the Planet.

_Where was she? _

Per her Friday tradition, she had just enough money to buy a sandwich with her coffee. Today she chose ham and cheese, though she barely touched it. The queasiness she felt in the early morning had continued into the afternoon, making it nearly impossible for her to eat. The argument with Clark only made her physical ailment worse, as it's existence and strength seemed to have an intimate connection to the sexual affair she never should have permitted.

She wondered then why she felt so attracted to Clark; especially after all the heartache he seemed to give her over the course of their friendship. Trying to end their recent engagement didn't help her problems with him, because she still couldn't stop thinking about him. Actually, he was indented into her mind forever now, no matter how hard she tried to forget. They made love, and it was a connection not easily broken.

A new flood of people streamed through the front doors. Thankfully, Lois Lane was one of them. Chloe sighed in relief and waved her hand to her cousin. Lois saw the red flare immediately, and acknowledged her with a nod.

"Hey," she called from the door, skirting through the crowds to reach Chloe.

When her cousin was a little closer, Chloe asked, concerned, "What took you so long? My window for social gathering was closing quickly."

Lois reached the table and placed her purse on top. She was dressed in her business attire, looking more professional than Chloe had ever seen her. Despite the long hours, working for a state senator was having a positive effect on her cousin.

"I had to break Mrs. Kent's leash on me with my teeth," she chided, shaking her head.

"I didn't think Mrs. Kent was such a slave-driver."

"She's not, really. But this upcoming legislative meeting on necessary funding for county health programs is making everyone in the political arena tighter than a drum."

Chloe smiled. "I heard some of the Planet political fanatics talking about it when I visited the main newsroom today."

Lois shrugged it off casually. "I've been listening to the talk all morning," she said sourly. "What I want to discuss now is the reason why my dear cousin had the dire need to call me during my busiest morning, claiming the life of my first born if I didn't meet her for lunch."

"Well, we haven't seen or spoken to each other since Tuesday night. I wanted to see how you were doing."

"And whose fault is that, Miss Reporter? I've been calling, but you never pick-up," she said. "Did you happen to see Lana when you were falling off the face of the earth? Because I haven't heard from her, either."

"I've been busy," Chloe replied, deciding to avoid Lois' concern for Lana altogether. "Even basement reporters have eventful weeks. You remember the assignment my boss gave me Monday? I've pitched a tent at my computer trying to research it. I've had time for little else."

_Except for lazy mornings spent on living room carpets in the arms of a farm boy, watching the sun come up ..._

"Obviously something else has been going on this week. Otherwise you wouldn't have wanted to meet."

Chloe glanced down to her latte. Moments from her morning began to trickle back into her thoughts again, as she contemplated the best way to tell Lois. After a short pause and having no easy way to say she had sex with Clark to soften the shock, she asked instead, "Do you want a coffee first? I can get it for you."

But Lois grabbed her wrist before she had the chance to leave.

"You're stalling. We both know, after the fuss you made, that I'm not going to let you leave until you spill it. I don't care if I have to tie you to the table with a string of napkins."

Chloe sighed heavily. She recited her confession through her mind continually until she built up the nerve to say it. All the while, she sipped her latte again, and then once more, before her throat finally felt moistened enough to say something without fumbling over her words.

Pursing her lips, she avoided Lois' eyes, and said softly, "Clark and I slept together."

When Lois didn't say anything after a long moment, Chloe glanced to her meekly. Her cousin seemed taken aback, at the very least, with a facial expression showing a full ballot of mixed emotions. And before she had the chance to ask her if she was okay, Lois asked for clarification.

"You did what?"

The second time was a little easier.

"I slept with Clark."

Clarification or not, the shock on Lois' face didn't falter. She just stared at Chloe in disbelief, still and quiet while the rest of the activity in the coffee house tried to drown out their conversation.

She blinked. "When?"

Chloe swallowed hard. _Best to start at the beginning._

"Last Saturday night, in his loft. I wanted to talk to him about a recent conversation I had with Lex. He was still swimming in the pain of his father's death," she said, remembering the night as if it was yesterday. With a smirk, she added, "Seems emotional heartache can even unlock floodgates guarded by platonic love."

Lois smirked with a sudden understanding. "So that explains the rose garden on your desk," she remarked dryly. "And the reason why you were acting so strange on Monday."

Chloe answered with a slight nod.

"So what ... are you two together now?"

"Well," Chloe began timidly; knowing the rest of the story would sound much worse, "There's more. When we awoke the next morning, I told him what we did was a very reckless mistake. He didn't appreciate my assessment very much, so ... Monday morning, he sent me flowers. Then he visited me just after you and Lana left."

Lois leaned forward curiously. "What did he say?"

"He kept insisting he wanted a relationship."

"And that's a problem ... why, again?"

Chloe traced the rim of her mug with her forefinger, her thoughts now drawn completely to Clark, and to the moments they spent in the stock room. The intensity of his lovemaking that morning made her shiver every time she let herself remember it. He made it very difficult for her to walk away from him then, and it was an experience she wouldn't soon forget.

"Haven't you always wanted to be with him?" Lois asked, jarring Chloe from her thoughts.

Chloe felt her chest tighten. "Not like this," she replied, taking another sip. "Every time we made love, I knew I was only a vessel to carry his sadness away. Not to mention, his break-up with Lana has just recently made headlines, and is less than a few months old."

"Hold on," Lois pressed. "Before we get into the pros and cons of this, let me clarify something else ... did you say, _'Every time we made love,' _as in, it happened more than once?"

Chloe winced slightly. "Yeah," she answered, averting her eyes. "When he came to the Planet to surprise me, he found me in the basement copy room. We talked about the flowers, about how we shouldn't make love again ... and then we _were_, in the stock room adjacent to the copy room, just out of sight from the break time smokers in the courtyard. If I had neglected to remember the huge windows to the courtyard, the smokers would've caught twenty minutes of free porn."

Lois' eyes widened, amusement playing on her lips. "You two ... had sex in the stock room?"

Chloe blushed with embarrassment, suddenly aware of how _kinky_ it sounded. Clark had been right this morning - they had sex in every place but a bed, and all because they ignored their lust for one another until it consumed them. Though neither was a virgin when they first made love, the flavor of physical love they shared felt new, unseasoned. Clark loved her with a sheer intensity she had not felt with anyone before him. The intensity was so strong that he had to have her right then, in the basement of the Daily Planet, in his barn loft where anyone could see them, or in the middle of her living room carpet.

_Kinky_ ... perhaps. But _priceless_ all in the same.

"I didn't think you had it in you," Lois mused, shaking her head.

Chloe's cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red. "I assure you, it caught me off guard. It's not like I went into the copy room because I knew it was a natural aphrodisiac and haven for hot, office sex. Trust me, if I knew Clark was on his way to surprise me, I would have met him in a public venue so we would not have been tempted by the confines of a small space."

But even as she said this, she knew it was a lie. She would never erase what happened in the stock room, nor would she stop it if it happened again. However, that was something Lois didn't need to know right now.

"So you two hooked up Saturday night and Monday," Lois stated, looking to Chloe for confirmation.

Chloe shifted her balance anxiously. "And last night," she added quietly, wishing Lois' opinions didn't matter so much to her.

Lois simply smirked at her cousin. _Not together ... right, Chlo? _

"You do know that mind trusts in the sexual realm would describe your week's worth of actions as_ insatiable_."

Chloe chose to ignore her sarcasm, and instead decided to explain. "He came over last night because he needed to talk to someone."

"How much talking did you do?"

"We didn't talk at all last night," she admitted flatly, not having to say why. "But we talked quite a bit this morning. It's the reason why I dragged you out of your assistant to the Senator morning responsibilities to meet with me."

"I'm guessing the heart-to-heart didn't go so well."

Chloe grimaced with regret. "We argued. Shouted at each other." She took another smooth sip from her coffee. "I asked him if he still loved Lana, and he said yes. Then I told him to get out."

Lois gazed to her, confused with the sadness in her cousin's voice. If anything, the truth Chloe accepted _after _she mistakenly slept with Clark should be commended, not ridiculed. Considering her history of loving the wrong men, her attempt to push one away before it was too late to leave the relationship unscathed was admirable. No matter how times Clark has tried to insist otherwise, his past with Lana and his lasting feelings for her will always be an issue in his future relationships with women - that is, until he learns to let go. By the argument he and Chloe had just this morning, clearly he has yet been able to envision his life without Lana in it. And that, for any hope of a Clark and Chloe romantic future, was a problem.

It seemed obvious to Lois why Clark was campaigning so hard to be with Chloe. Losing himself in the arms of another woman made it easy to forget the pain Lana had given him when she left. Though initially flattering for Chloe, seeing as he chose her because he trusted her so dearly, it was not the way to start a relationship.

_Rebound, sex buddy, chosen reverie _... there were a million different ways to categorize what they were doing, and none of them gave Chloe what she always wanted; Clark, unconditionally. Maybe he did love her, and maybe he really did want to be with her. But his lasting feelings for Lana made it impossible to take his need for Chloe seriously.

"It's what you should have said," Lois reassured her, unable to keep the image of Clark seducing Chloe out of her head. Clark was taking advantage of her, and Lois didn't appreciate it in the least - even if he didn't realize what he was doing, and even if their hook-up was mutual.

But Chloe didn't seem convinced. "Then why do I feel like the bad guy here? I mean ... should I have more faith in what happened between the two of us this past week? I know the reasons why we started this affair are hardly in the constitution for appropriate courting practices. But since Saturday, I don't think either of us can tell the difference between hurt-comfort and true love. And I'm afraid I'm passing up the latter, and all because I'm afraid to take the chance."

Lois reached for her forearm. "You and I both know what happened the last time you took a chance with Clark. He flat-out told you he wasn't interested."

"He's changed since then," Chloe replied firmly, starting to believe her own words.

She didn't want to remember the conversation she had with Clark on the football field back in high school, so she chose to remember their lovemaking from the night before instead. She could still feel the softness of his touch, and the lingering, tender graze of his lips on her collarbone as he moved above her. Despite the apparent distance and hesitancy in his passion, Clark still made love to her again and again, without fault and without one word of regret. More so, he loved her with the same intensity as in the stock room, though not nearly as raw or rough. Above everything else, the fear of losing her completely still predominated all of the emotions raging inside him while they had sex.

He _needed _her. He really did, and not just to wipe away his problems. By the disappointment on his face when she pushed him away, Chloe would almost bet on it.

But could she ... could she _bet_ on it? Could she risk her heart again to the unknown?

"Do you really believe that?" Lois asked, doubt dripping from her voice. "You said yourself he admitted he still loved Lana. When the choice comes, do you really think he'll choose you over her?"

Chloe dipped her eyes to her coffee again. Elapsed time has shown that Clark's allegiance has always been with Lana, whether the two of them were together or not. It was unlikely that a week's worth of lust could erase fifteen years of relentless, heartfelt love. The latter may be weak now, living only on the shadow of hopes and dreams two hearts struggle to relinquish completely. Yet it's lasting impression hindered her faith in everything she and Clark have shared in their intimacy over the past five days. In the darkness of his childhood crush still swarming through him, little else could survive.

Any certainty she had just moments ago seemed to fade with the realism washing over her now. Though she trusted Clark in every other facet of her life, trusting him with her heart proved too often catastrophic. Visions of him running back to Lana the second she separated from Lex infiltrated her thoughts, and the nausea she fought all day suddenly churned in her stomach again, and became a tangible, physical reminder of the sins Clark has committed in the past. As a person, a friend, she could forgive him.

As a recent lover ... well, that was a different story.

"I don't know," she said finally, unwilling to concede to Lois completely. "I have no idea what he would do."

"Yes, you do."

Chloe avoided Lois' continuous stare, and instead concentrated on the cafe employee behind the counter struggling to make lattes and cappuccinos as fast as he could. Then she looked to world outside of their small space, outside of their conversation, and saw people hurriedly walking back and forth to work, to school, and to their lives. Chloe imagined meeting Clark here on some idle lunch hour. They have yet met in public, fearing the scrutiny sure to plague them if someone close to them discovered the purpose of their rendezvous. Abashedly, she could almost imagine them doing nothing about the current state of their friendship. Such a dangerous course would lead them both down a road neither had trotted before. Certainly the safety of her apartment and the farmhouse would be compromised in time, forcing them to use the ever dependable, local hotel room to satisfy their sexual needs.

Though the thought made Chloe blush with desire, as she was strangely turned on by the heightened secrecy they would have to embrace if they continued, she knew it was wrong. Eventually, their lustful meetings behind alleyways, within the covert darkness of a hotel room, in Daily Planet closets, and in the grassy fields of Smallville would catch up to them. Emotional attachment would ultimately play a role, whether by resurrecting Clark's former platonic disposition towards Chloe, or seriously shoving her over the abyss of unyielding love. By that time, she was sure she would never be able to let Clark go without seriously scaring her heart.

"You have to stop this, Chlo. I know you, honey," Lois said, concerned. "I know you've wanted this, and I know you want Clark to ride into your life like a Knight in Shining armor ... but we both know how this will end, no matter how many times he says he wants to be with you. You have to nip this in the butt now, before you can't walk away so easily."

Chloe heard her cousin's warning distantly, though it echoed her own. Customers of the cafe continued to generate a tornado of activity around them, but she hardly noticed. All she could see, all she could feel, or hear, was Clark.

A specific, treasured moment from their night together trickled back into her mind – a moment less than an hour before dawn. They had made love for the fourth time just minutes before, leaving Chloe lazy, exhausted, and still swimming in the afterglow. Clark, as he always tended do, fell asleep soundly in her arms, spooned behind her, content and drawn to her center like the man too often riding triumphantly through her dreams.

In this still world of utter surrender, of love, warmth, and tenderness only discovered in the day's darkest night, Chloe pulled his arms tighter around her waist. All of her senses were tuned to him, like a scratchy radio searching for the perfect signal. She heard his heart beating, felt his soft breath tickling her neck, and tasted the sweet tonic of his skin when she turned and kissed his chin. With an easy smile, she also felt the nudge of his erection between her legs, still warm and tender from their recent lovemaking. A sense of complete happiness slipped into her heart when she let the moment settle, form, and become.

_Clark was there with her._ After a night's worth of sex, he had no desire to leave her side any time soon. He was spooned behind her like a true lover, cherishing her closeness in the strength of his grip. By the tautness of the muscles in his arms as he held her, she sensed his unconscious need to protect her until morning. His arms, of course, always made her feel safe.

In that hour before the sun rose above the Metropolis skyline, Chloe sensed _his_ happiness, as well. His contentment, his love, and his need for her. In that hour before the birds sang, and before the world came alive, she believed in the connection she and Clark had made throughout the night. She believed something had changed between them since they first made love only days prior. She believed _in_ him because Clark melted into her, and gave her his emotions, his burdens, and his heart.

In that moment ... he gave himself to her unconditionally. She saw it all. Nothing of his pain, of his heartache, or of his love for her had been left unturned.

"Chloe?" Lois asked worriedly.

Chloe let the images of her night dissolve like soap bubbles in the sun. Before her, Lois waited for her acknowledgement.

Apparently, eye contact was enough, because Lois continued to speak without giving her a chance to respond.

"What are you going to do?"

_And then his eyes opened slowly behind her. He breathed in her scent, felt the softness of her hair on his face, and smiled into the nape of her neck. He flattened his palm on her stomach with one hand, and then glided fingertips up her spine with the other. She gasped softly when the hand on her stomach dipped lower, enough to excite her, make her arch back into him teasingly. _

_Sweet lips kissed the spot behind her ear. _

_By his touch, she thought he wanted another round. But what he really wanted instead, what he whispered into her skin, was not what she expected …_

_"I love you."_

_Her hand found his at her waist and gripped it anxiously. She was afraid she had misheard._

_Then he pulled her against him ever tighter, hands and legs entwined ... and said it again._

_"I love you, Chloe Sullivan."_

_Pause, kiss to her shoulder, her neck, then a nibble on her earlobe._

_"You're what I've been waiting for ... all this time."_

Chloe smiled knowingly, tentatively. The nausea in her stomach started to subside, and a sense of familiar contentment took its place. She sighed faintly, and then looked across the table at her cousin's waiting stare.

_What am I going to do? _

And the solution to her problem suddenly revealed itself in just three words.

"Follow my heart."

0000000000

**_tbc_**


	14. Chapter 12

_**The Next Day ...**_

Saturdays in the Daily Planet basement were far less hectic than Fridays, though no less stressful. Chloe had spent most of yesterday, and all today researching, writing, and rewriting her recent article. She wanted it to be a milestone above the others she has written for this world-renowned paper in the past, hoping further exceptional work could help her gain meaningful ground in her career path. Of course, she hoped the next big leap would find her in the main newsroom, but right now she would settle for two or three floors higher if she could earn it.

Gratefully, after she spoke with Lois about her affair with Clark, her natural inspiration finally found a way to shine through. Because of her work, she was able to misplace thoughts of Clark from her mind for a healthy twenty-four hours. Article writing, as a general practice, was always an easy distraction for her, one she could cling to until she was ready to face her more personal problems.

However, her article was finished now, saved on her computer with her gold tag of approval. And there wasn't much left to do but think about him.

Chloe glanced to her watch: three o'clock. Most of the day was gone now, but that was not something new. She spent most of her Saturdays here, and often told her friends and family that she did so out of a deep commitment to her goals. No one needed to know that she actually had nowhere else to go, and her presence here was directly proportionate to the absence of any meaningful social life. The demand of her internship and college _was_ a formidable foe to having a boyfriend, or visiting friends, but it wasn't impossible as she often led other people believe. Her week spent with Clark proved it could be done with little extra effort.

When she thought of the late afternoon hour again, she immediately thought of him in a more practical way. She wondered what farm chore he was attending to, or if he chose to take a small nap before dinner. With a little smile, Chloe remembered Lois and Martha telling her of Clark's tendency to spend most of his days plopped on the couch once the farm chores were finished. The idea of him sleeping his days away made her worry for him, no matter how cute he might look sprawled out on the couch with the lights off.

Their conversation yesterday morning was another reason to worry, as his words of frustration seemed to support the stories she's heard. Clearly, he was having trouble deciding on the course for his life after his father's death. His confusion led him into an apathetic lifestyle, which, in his case, involved lounging the rest of his life away while the world passed him by. His eyes, the same she stared deeply into moments after they made love, had noticeably turned cavernous and bloodshot. His pain and the effortless hours he logged day after day were exhausting him.

And she would never tell him this, but Chloe noticed something else different about him the other night when she ran her hands across his abdomen – he had gained weight. It was only a few pounds, and hardly reason enough to stage an over-eating intervention. He still looked gorgeous, something that would never change for Chloe, no matter how many pounds he gained. But it did support Martha and Lois' claims of his daily, inactive schedule.

When she thought of Clark as the self-assured ninth grader from high school she remembered most, she had difficulty believing _this_ Clark was the same person.

Of course, he never had to deal with such a tragedy of this scale in his life before. And the last time tragedy made an appearance in his life, it led him to Metropolis on a crime spree, juiced with red kryptonite.

Clark certainly had his way of dealing with his problems.

Regardless of his past, Chloe wanted to be there for him. His father's death hit him hard, and no one close to him should expect him to get over it so quickly. It had only been a handful of months, after all. Considering the level of importance his father played in his life before his death, it was only natural his passing would still have a great effect on the decisions Clark was trying to make now. Clark carried an impenetrable devotion to his father, and Chloe expected his first decision would have something to do with future of the farm. With Clark's special talents, and the loss of the farm's best worker, it was only natural for him to assume the duties all on his own. It was the course of action any prodigal son would be expected to follow.

However, time had passed now. And though his devotion to the farm was understandable, it had also worn out its welcome. He had to start moving on, especially when he certainly had dreams of his own that didn't involve spending the rest of his life in Smallville. All those most important in his life seemed to agree on this.

However, unlike Martha and Lois, Chloe knew he couldn't do it alone. Someone had to push him.

Chloe leaned back in her chair, consumed with her thoughts of him. Consumed with the idea of being with him, fully and completely. She still had a chance, even if it had only been a day since she threw him out of her apartment. She had a feeling if she stood outside his door it would only take one knock to get inside. If anything, the picture was tempting.

And right now, she sensed he needed her more than she needed him.

But was it really what she wanted? Knowing his feelings for Lana still hung to life deep in his heart, was it prudent to walk away before the entire situation became too messy?

The conversation she had with Lois filtered back into her brain like a bad dream. Unfortunately, every warning her cousin gave her had merit. If Chloe did decide to try a relationship with Clark, and if the moment came for him to decide which girl he wanted the most, would Clark choose her? Or would he fall back into his pattern and choose Lana instead, no matter the promises and words of love he's whispered into her ear after they've made love?

Did the latter come from his heart, or did he just say the words because he felt guilty for using her?

Did he realize what he was doing at all?

Chloe fingered her cell phone on her desk. She wanted to call him so badly. Since their week of sexual discoveries began, today was the first day she's truly missed him. She couldn't decide if her sudden bout of Clark withdrawal had to do with how she left it with him yesterday morning, of if she was really beginning to fall for him. Neither scenario made her feel better. Their lovemaking, as Chloe quickly discovered, had become far more complicated than either of them had intended. It was supposed to be just a one-night stand to help them erase the sadness in their lives. Why had it suddenly turned into an opportunity for both of them to move on from the past ... and move on with each other?

With a little sigh, she grabbed her coffee mug, her cell phone so she wouldn't miss any calls, and decided to give her caffeine addiction a warm-up. Moving from her desk to the coffee pot across the room relieved her love sickness for a few moments, long enough to say hello to her fellow co-workers and grab a donut on her way there. By the time she was pouring the black coffee into her mug, all she could think of was how rejuvenating the liquid would be for her in the coming hour. Maybe by then she would have made a decision concerning Clark.

Chloe didn't know why, but she felt the pressure to decide soon. After her coffee and donut, perhaps she would go home to a more serene atmosphere. There she could draw a warm bath, light candles, pour herself a glass of wine, and think only of him. With no deadlines, no phones, and no friends, she was sure her evening of serenity would give her the best chance to think clearly.

Well ... maybe she would want her cell phone near, after all. In case she felt lonely.

But before she had the chance to take her first bite out of her donut, her cell phone buzzed in her hand. Chloe didn't think to check the caller before she flipped it open. She was too busy trying to juggle her coffee and donut just so she could answer in time.

"Hello?" she asked, finally after the third ring.

She smiled pleasantly when the person began to speak, realizing it had been awhile since she heard the voice. Too long, really.

"I'm doing okay," Chloe said, with a tone much warmer than when she first answered. "I was going to call..."

But she was interrupted before the conversation could grow one second longer, and by a string of words she wished had never been said. All she could do was listen in silence, and hope her heart hadn't stopped beating.

000000000000000

**_tbc_**


	15. Chapter 13

_**Around the same time, in a different part of the world ... **_

The afternoon sun was beginning its slow descent behind the distant hills in Smallville. Clark Kent sat quietly in the porch swing, swaying back and forth with a nudge of his feet, and watched the day's light tick away in a wistful solitude. He finished the farm chores ahead of schedule, as usual, but found himself spending the rest of the afternoon on the porch rather than in front of the tube. Saturday afternoon television was packed with infomercials, and often made him fall asleep within the first hour. When he reconsidered the week's worth of events, Clark felt his time was best spent outdoors where he could replay what happened underneath the comfort of a blue sky. Both Lois and his mother were also away on business, so today gave him the best chance to think about his personal life without any interruptions.

More accurately, the solitude gave him a chance to think about_ her_, and what he wanted in a less stressful venue.

Clark took a gentle sip of his coffee, letting it soothe his throat, his thoughts. What angered him the most now, as he recounted the events of yesterday morning, was that he had been truthful with Chloe. When she asked him if he still loved Lana, his answer came quickly and decisively. Unfortunately, the years he spent loving Lana, both from afar and later as a couple, had been cemented into his brain, never to be forgotten. Lana was his first love, and was the first person he had ever been with. She would always own a place in his heart regardless of the direction his own love story might take him.

By her certainty and absence of fear when they had sex, he sensed Chloe's virginity had been taken long before they hooked up last week, as well. So she probably understood the impression of a first lover on a young mind. A person never forgets the face, nor the blissful innocence and everlasting affection of the first person he or she was ever intimate with.

But achingly, Clark knew his relationship with Lana, and his relationship with Chloe as a result, differed from the norm. In the past he never failed to characterize his relationship with Lana as eternal, always believing he was destined to end up with her by the end of his life no matter the obstacles set in their way. So unlike many first loves, he never lost hope that his future would inevitably align with the only person his heart had ever known. It was this feeling of hope that forced him to routinely dismiss Chloe's advances so he could be with, or have the chance to be with Lana when the time was right. He didn't want to lead Chloe on, especially when his heart belonged to another - and especially when he knew how she felt about him in return.

When Clark tried and failed on his first chance with Lana, he still kept Chloe at arm's length because he knew his need for the former had not been satisfied. He had enough sense of mind to realize he and Lana were merely in a valley between mountains, and therefore were far from over.

Two years later, ignoring his biological father's pleas to come home, he started an extended relationship with Lana when fate gave him a chance at a normal, mortal life free from the forbidding sense of destiny. At the time, it was exactly what he wanted.

And keeping Chloe away from him romantically had been the right call, because he knew she deserved more from him than just the shell of his heart. Clark promised himself a long time ago that if he ever considered a relationship with Chloe, it would be at a time when he could give her everything. He couldn't bare the thought of treating her as a rebound, nor did he want just a casual relationship built from obligation or pity, with no promise of a meaningful future. She was too special to be used in such a careless way.

Unfortunately, Chloe was no stranger to the heartache generated by his rejection, and she had no wish to revisit its sting again if she could prevent it. Her hesitancy to love him back at this current juncture in their lives, just months after his second failed relationship with Lana, made more sense than he was willing to admit. He, too, would have trouble ignoring the warning signs if he were in her place instead. All arrows led to his eventual reconciliation with Lana, especially if his feelings for her had still not left him completely.

Disturbingly, since the morning before, he had been asking himself these questions over and over again – _Did his lasting feelings for Lana mean he still wanted a future with her, or were they just the fuselage of a relationship long since expired? _

_Was his relationship with Lana finally over?_

_Was he truly ready to love someone else? _

_Was he ready to let go of the hope?_

Clark swallowed hard when he realized he didn't have a sure answer. He wanted to say yes in light of the week he shared with Chloe, while basking in the warmth of her bed, of her touch and the blanket of her affection. But something deep inside of him refused to be ignored so easily, making him wonder if Chloe's evaluation of his feelings was really that far off.

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The phone rang from inside the house, perking Clark's attention from his thoughts. He heard it only once before he stormed through the door in super speed. Before the phone had the chance to ring a second time, he had picked it up at the kitchen counter.

"Hello?"

"Hey," came the voice from the other end. "It's me."

Clark's heart grew still.

"Hey," he greeted softly, tentatively. "I was just thinking about you."

Chloe smiled weakly. "I hope my rudely kicking you out of my apartment didn't drop my score on your likeable scale too low."

"No, trust me... I deserved it."

Thick silence drifted between them suddenly, riding the waves of continued awkwardness and words left unsaid. Yet underneath those layers of emotion, created by the very love they were afraid to define, Clark also noticed a strain of something entirely different. Her silence had other reasons for existence.

"So, um ... what's up?" Clark asked nervously, fearing his declaration of love for Lana had certainly ruined what he had with Chloe. It was likely she wouldn't want to rekindle their ability to talk so candidly with each other - a trait always present in their friendship, and one he didn't want to live one day without.

Chloe, however, seemed to have more important things on her mind, and didn't bother to consider if it was right for her to continue in light of their latest argument."Well, a lot, actually," she said heavily. "I couldn't think of anyone else to call."

Clark felt his chest tighten, and his fear for his own mental well-being had morphed into something far different and far more serious. "What's wrong?"

She paused noticeably before she explained, her voice having dipped an octave when she spoke again. "My dad called me a few minutes ago. He told me his general physician found a few spots on his lungs during a routine X-ray. They have to do tests first, but … they believe its cancer."

"Cancer?" he asked, almost sure he had misheard - or, rather, hoping he had.

Chloe sighed deeply into the phone. "Yeah. I told him I wanted go and see him, but he insisted my unpaid, glorified jaywalking reporter internship was more important," she replied dryly, slight amusement slipping underneath her words. "I guess your complaints of my obstinacy are well placed, after all."

Clark smiled, but wiped it away when he let the information she gave him settle in his mind. He gripped the phone a little tighter, suddenly overcome with the seriousness of the situation. Of course, the spots on her father's lungs could be something else, and the fear could be erased with a simple phone call of reprieve. _But until then ..._

"Can I see you? Meet you at your apartment, or something?"

"No, you don't have to," she insisted quickly. "Really, it's fine."

Clark closed his eyes sadly. Through the phone, he could hear her tears.

"Chloe ..."

"My apartment just reminds me of him. It's the last place I want to be."

Clark walked from the counter to the kitchen table. He traced his hand across the table's smooth surface, thinking. His concerns and thoughts of Lana from before had faded, allowing him to remember the real, tangible emotions that had coursed through his veins while he made love to Chloe. His pure, natural need for her blazed through him again like a roaring flame, consuming him.

Then he whispered it.

"Come to me, then."

Chloe didn't respond immediately. Instead she let the true meaning of his words hang in the air like dew on a summer morning. There were so many conversations they still needed to have, separate from the threat of intrusive past lovers, fears, crippling insecurities, and the threatening sickness of a parent. They had been walking the tightrope between friendship and lovers all week long, and the time to jump one way or the other had finally come. They could pretend no longer.

"Why, Clark?" she asked, weakened now by the tears she had shed. "Why?"

"So we can talk."

"I don't know ... "

Clark could feel her mood changing, her will to keep them apart shattering under the stress. Nothing mattered but the here and now, being together when it counted the most.

_And what did she say before? - The only person she could think to call ... was him. _

So he insisted, "I do."

"_Oh, Clark_," she breathed softly, the fight to argue with him wiped clean by a new set of tears.

He smiled affectionately, tenderly, hoping he could comfort her just by thinking of her. All the while he continued to make his case for her to join him, praying it would be enough.

"Listen, Mom and Lois won't be home until tomorrow. You can stay all night. We don't have to doanything, you know. We can just have dinner, sit in front of the fire, and talk about your Dad, or whatever. I just don't want you to be alone tonight. I want to be with you."

Clark heard a gentle, soft sigh escape her lips. She called him because in this desperate moment only he could be entrusted with her heart. Maybe it would lead to sex on the living room floor, or maybe it would lead to him holding her on the porch swing until she stopped crying against his chest. Whatever the outcome, he intended to be there for her, no matter the absence of an official title. For all intense purposes, he was her confidante, her best friend ... and now her lover.

"I'd like that," she finally whispered. "I'd like that very much."

He returned the smile he could hear in her voice. "Good. I'll come and get you."

"Actually, let me drive to you. Do you mind?"

"No, not at all."

"I need a little quiet time before I can talk about this. The drive will help."

Clark nodded, but felt his heat break in pieces. He couldn't wait to hold her in his arms, under the blanket of a million stars. For the first time since this week began, his body actually _ached_ for her. Hearing the sadness in her voice was making him go crazy, because he could feel the burden of her new pain as if it were his own. He wanted to run to her, pick her up in his arms, and race them to a far corner of the world where no one could find them. Further still, he wanted to hide her in a field of tall, lush grasses, make love to her until neither of them could move, and pledge to her his undying love.

Instead, he promised to her what she wanted, tenderly and lovingly.

"I'll wait for you."

_But before the words had even left his mouth, he was already counting the minutes until they would see each other again. _

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After he hung up the phone, Clark immediately began to prepare for Chloe's arrival. He decided to try his hand at the stir-fry again, so he ran to the store first to pick up the necessary groceries. He also bought a small cheesecake in the bakery, decorated atop with cherries, because he knew it was one of her favorite desserts. He was sure it would make her feel better.

While he watched the grocery assistant wrap-up the cheesecake in a white plastic box, he let his mind wander. He imagined hand-feeding every bite to Chloe in front of the fire, lying naked underneath a soft blanket. Shamelessly, he took the fantasy a step further and wondered what it might feel like to lick the cheesecake off her stomach, her thighs, or even her breasts. The fantasy felt so real that he could almost hear her whimpers of pleasure above the chatter and chaos of the shoppers surrounding him. Closing his eyes, he could almost see her face, glowing like an angel from the firelight. Her smile always made him tremble.

Thirty seconds later, the grocery assistant had to physically nudge him from his thoughts to give him the cheesecake. Clark blushed profusely, thanked him, and then scurried down the next aisle before any questions could be asked. Gratefully, he was carrying enough groceries to hide the real reason for his embarrassment.

Once he came home and put the groceries away for later, he still had a pinch over two hours before Chloe would be there. He used the extra time to pick up around the house, concentrating mainly on the kitchen, bathroom, living room, and his bedroom. Until now he had no real comprehension of the mess he had created over the last two days since his mother and Lois had been gone. The living room and his bedroom were the worst, cascaded by trash ranging from random candy wrappers and potato chip bags, to newspapers and magazines of various genres. It took longer than he expected, but he cleaned from top to bottom. Because he had no idea where the night was going to take them, he made sure his loft and the porch area were clean, as well.

He wanted everything perfect for her.

When the house finally looked hospitable again, Clark decided to take a shower next. He used a low voltage of his heat vision ricocheted against a mirror to shave the little bit of stubble that had grown on his face since yesterday. Though, he made mental note of a conversation he had with Chloe earlier in the week, and promised to let his stubble grow some over the weekend. For some reason, just a glint of facial hair turned her on. Always good to know, of course, what pleased her the most for future reference.

Next came the decision of what to wear. Adorned only with a towel encircling his waist, he went to his closet and glanced over his vast array of choices. Casual was the key word here because he was sure Chloe had no intention of dressing formal. She may have even left for Smallville straight from work, still dressed in her workday attire, having not bothered to go home first. If so, Clark wouldn't hesitate to offer her something of his to wear so she could be more comfortable. He traced his hand over one of his flannel, short-sleeved shirts, suddenly overwhelmed by the image of what Chloe might look like wearing one … and nothing else. _Sexy and beautiful, as always._ _Sensual and cute at the same time. _

Shaking his head from the thought, Clark grabbed a red, short-sleeved, button down shirt and a pair of jeans from his drawer. The combination would do nicely.

With little more than an hour to go before Chloe would be there with him, the only task left unfinished was dinner. Clark chopped the vegetables, sliced the chicken thin, and then placed each ingredient into separate bowls. When he was finished, all of it went back into the refrigerator, because he didn't want to start cooking anything until she was here. It was also still too soon to make the rice he planned as a side dish, but he placed the box on the counter so he wouldn't forget it later.

However, he did make the lemonade early, because he was certain she would want a glass when she arrived. He considered borrowing a bottle of red wine from Lois to make their dinner more romantic, but decided against it when he remembered the reason why Chloe wanted to be with him tonight. Alcohol was the last thing she needed.

The pre-meal preparations were finished in less than a half hour. With time still to spare, Clark walked to the barn loft to wait. Once there, he sat on the same couch where he first made love to Chloe, letting the moment consume him like the very air he breathed in. Even now, he could still smell her intoxicating aroma, as it seemed embedded into the worn fabric. Though he didn't lose his sexual innocence to her, Chloe did take from him another type of virginity. She was the first person he made love to with his powers still intact, and whom he trusted enough to do so. Strangely, being with Chloe had made him feel alive; more so than he had ever felt while with Lana. Chloe gave him his first kiss, so it was only appropriate that making love to her made him feel like a man. She changed him more than any other woman. She made him grow, made him become.

Moments from the week filtered into his mind again. He caught a glimpse of the Native American blanket strewn across the back of the couch. They had used it to keep warm the first night they made love, and he could almost envision how beautiful she had looked with it wrapped around her body. He never told her this, but he spent much of that night watching her sleep. They'd changed positions during the night, just after their latest lovemaking, and her body had ended up sprawled atop his and her head buried in the curve of his neck. For more than an hour he'd simply laid there, drawing his fingertips up and down the length of her body like it was a masterpiece of exquisite art. He'd listened to her breathing, and felt every exhale brush against his skin. Mostly, though, he held her and wondered why they had waited so long to give into one another.

As the images of that night faded, Clark stood and grasped the blanket with his hand, certain its presence was essential for what was to come. In front of the fire, he could think of nothing better than wrapping Chloe in its warmth, while holding her in his arms. He then walked to his desk, opened the bottom drawer, and retrieved half a dozen candles he'd saved over the past year. He wanted to use them originally for Lana, but felt their purpose was better served with Chloe instead.

Juggling the candles and the blanket, he walked out of the barn and headed back to the house. On his way, he heard the distance roar of a car just down the road, though he couldn't see it. Smiling, he raced into the house, hurriedly set the blanket next to the fireplace, then the candles around the living room in a haphazardly pattern. He quickly started the fire, as well, cursing himself for not doing it sooner. It was late spring, and the temperature had peeked into the upper seventies today in Smallville. However, tonight, as the sun disappeared behind the horizon, the fire would be a nice way to keep warm in the chilly breeze of the evening. Not to mention, it set the mood wonderfully.

Just when the first spark crackled against the wood, he heard a knock at the screen door in the kitchen. Smiling, he promised to give Chloe an all expenses paid pass to come into the house whenever she wanted. She, of all people, didn't need to knock. He stood after a moment, when he knew the fire was under control, and strolled easily to the door. On his way back into the house from the loft, he had mistakenly nudged the main kitchen door closed against the screen door. Because of this, he couldn't see her as he approached. He wondered if her tears had streaked her mascara, and quietly promised to search for a box of Kleenex once she was inside.

Clark straightened his shirt first, sighed, and then flung the door open with a smile.

But the crack about Chloe never needing to knock fizzled under the stare from the one he didn't expect, as did the warm smile he had conjured at the last minute.

"Hi, Clark," came the greeting, once she noticed the shock on his face had dissipated into awkwardness.

A deep pit formed in his stomach. His heart started to beat rapidly, his body tingled nervously, and his throat constricted like a vise. His mind was whirling like a tornado, picking up emotions along the terrain of his heart that he had tried so hard to lock away.

And when he could speak again, he finally responded by whispering her name.

"Lana."

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**_tbc_**


	16. Chapter 14

_**Somewhere between Metropolis and Smallville ...**_

Miles and miles of farmland passed by her car window as Chloe traveled the nearly desolate roads of a country Kansas evening. She drove from Metropolis to Smallville in her VW Bug in silence, save for the sound of traffic noise and the distant recollection of memories with her father soaring through her mind. She did try to listen to the radio once to drown out her worry. But after she had flipped through the stations and found nothing to suite her mood, she turned it off with a groan of disgust, content to leave the car silent for the rest of the trip. Radio music was not the antidote to her sadness, nor was the simple act of driving. What she needed was to listen to Clark's heartbeat beneath her ear. She needed to rest in his loving arms for an entire evening, and pretend the world could disappear in the confines of a warm farmhouse.

Better yet, in the confines of the one she loved.

Clark always did have a way of soothing her. Even before they smudged the line between friendship and romance, he always knew what to say or how to hold her to make her feel better when she was upset. While they were in high school, she couldn't count the number of times she fled to him for help, or merely to give herself a sense of companionship in a time of chaos. They had experienced quite a few valleys in the early years of their friendship, but found a way to work through them due to the deep affection they had for each other.

Platonic love had never been a problem for them. Going to him in her darkest hour had never been one, either.

So it was no surprise to her why she had accepted his invitation to stay with him so quickly, despite how often she used the problems in their love affair to keep them apart over the last week. Chloe needed him sleeping beside her if she hoped to have a restful night, in case the worry for her father frightened her from her slumber. She wanted him there to hold her until her tears were dry, and whisper words of comfort in her ear until she fell back to sleep. Moreover, if sleep neglected to visit her at all, she hoped he would stay up with her until morning's dawn.

She needed to know, in this threatening time of her life, that she wasn't alone.

For this reason, Chloe had stopped at her apartment after she left work to change into jeans and a casual, light blue colored blouse, and pack a few personal items in a small bag. Her intentions were to spend the weekend with him, at the least, both at the farmhouse and with her father. Though her father didn't want her _to be bothered _with his health, she wouldn't dare let him go through it without her. They had stuck together when her mother left them, when Lionel Luthor threatened her life, and when they barely had a hundred dollars in the bank. No tragedy had ever kept them apart before, and Chloe wasn't going to let the greatest trial of their lives to date be the first.

And she wanted Clark to be there with them, as well.

Chloe suddenly noticed a new sign pass by her as she drove - _Smallville, 2 miles_. Already her heart started to beat faster in the anticipation of seeing him again. They had only been apart for a day, but it felt like a lifetime due to the intensity of their last argument. Though the numerous reasons to question Clark's loyalty to her had merit, she didn't want to think about it now. All she wanted was for him to comfort her as he did throughout the week, by wiping away her pain with a stroke of his hand across her cheek. She wanted to lose herself in their lovemaking, and pretend the world was the way it should be without the insistent reminder of the shortcomings inherent in their hasty hook-up.

Perhaps the reason why they treaded so carefully through the terrain of their unexpected love was not because of the fear of stepping on an emotional landmine, but the fear of realizing no such landmines had ever existed.

_Were they afraid to fall in love with one another ... because they were on the edge of something neither had experienced before?_

Up ahead, Main Street in Smallville came into focus. The storefronts she had grown so accustomed to over the past five years welcomed her like an old friend too long gone. The time away from the city, from the paper and even her friends, would do her good. She longed to spend a day with Clark in the same fields they used to run through to dry off from their swims in Crater Lake back in ninth grade. She longed to lie with him in the grass, and let him kiss away her tears.

She longed for him to tell her that her father would be okay. She longed for him to be her rock, as well as the voice of reason to quell her irrational thoughts.

She longed for him to be the man she's waited her whole life to meet.

Fordman's Depertment Store drew closer, and across from it the lights from the Talon shone like a beacon in the dwindling daylight. Small town people she knew both by face and name walked the sidewalks to their respective Saturday night gatherings, with family, friends, and lovers hanging on their arms. In a short time the tiny lights from Main Street would dissipate beneath the weight of a darkening evening. Farmland would pass by her window again, only to lure her closer to the driveway; to the farm she traveled all this way to see.

Very soon she would be welcomed into his home. Perhaps they would eat at his kitchen table, or maybe they would just talk while they sat in his porch swing, their bodies pressed close and their thoughts lost to the promise of a starlit sky. Further still, maybe they would make love in front of the fire, until the lullaby resonating in their hearts sang them to sleep. Her tears would be gone by them, dried up in the love they were too frightened to embrace fully until now.

And with the sweet aroma of their lovemaking still clinging to the air around them, Clark would promise to stand by her. While she visited her father, while she sat with him during the test, and while they awaited the results ... he would hold her hand and never let go.

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"Can I come in?"

Clark stared at her for a second longer, then stepped back from the doorway to let her inside. "Sure, of course."

Lana smiled at him as she walked into the kitchen. "I'm sorry this is unexpected. But I needed someone to talk to. I tried calling Chloe, but it went straight to her voicemail."

He glanced into the living room he had just minutes ago decorated with a lover's touch. Sighing tightly, he hoped Lana's problem was an easy one. Furthermore, he hoped she wouldn't try to walk into the living room. To ensure the latter, he decided to stand in the doorway leading from the kitchen into the living room, and act as a barrier. He had no intention of flaunting to her what he had planned for another woman, especially when he and Chloe were still trying to keep their love affair a secret.

"Well, she is a busy woman," Clark offered, deciding to keep Chloe's recent family development a secret, as well. It was her place to tell Lana, not his.

"True," Lana sighed, walking to the kitchen sink, her back turned to him. "I can hardly keep track of her most of the time."

"A reporter's schedule changes in a second's notice."

She turned to look at him. "This week she has been especially hard to get a hold of. I think she's been avoiding me."

Clark felt his cheeks flush and he quickly averted his eyes to the floor. "Was there something you wanted, Lana?"

"Well, if you were blonde and spunky, I would tell you about the recent problems I've had in my relationship," she mused sadly, gazing to the small purse in her hands. "But since you're not, I just came to talk casually to a friend."

"Oh."

"Is that okay?"

He looked over his shoulder into the living room once more, then back to Lana standing in front of him. "Well, actually..."

"You've certainly been preoccupied with the other room since I've arrived," she observed acutely, ignoring the tension in his voice. She stepped closer to him, trying to peer around him for a better look. "What do you have going on in there?"

Clark swallowed nervously as he tried to think of the best explanation. "Um, its ... ah..."

But Lana didn't give him a chance to answer any further before she pushed past him into the living room to see for herself.

"What is all of this?"

"Lana ... it's just ... it's nothing," he stammered quickly, moving past her to prevent her from venturing any further past the couch. "I just thought it was a good night for a fire, you know? The forecasters mentioned rain..."

Lana nudged him aside with her hand to get a better look at the arrangements he had made. The fireplace was roaring nicely, blankets were placed on the floor, and candles had been set around the room. Add the bottle of wine and two glasses she could imagine might be in the refrigerator awaiting its chance to be used tonight, and she had a pretty good idea of his plans.

"Expecting someone special?" she asked, trying to sound like a thoughtful friend rather than a slightly jealous old girlfriend.

Clark winced a little in embarrassment. He lowered his eyes to the roaring fire, wishing Chloe had made it here before Lana. If the latter had occurred, then they would have been forced to tell Lana the truth. But as that was not the case ... "Really, it's nothing," he insisted again.

"I doubt you give yourself this much attention on a Saturday night. Do I know her?"

He ignored her question and moved to the fire, bent down, and nudged a log over with the poker to help it catch aflame. The living room glowed warmly, brightly under the strengthened orange hue from the flames, contrasting the darkness engulfing the earth outside the windows.

Lana watched him tend to the fireplace, recalling a night they had spent in his bedroom so long ago. Memories from their relationship swarmed through her mind like a magnificent breeze, and she had trouble seeing him now as less than beautiful. He was kneeling on the floor, back turned to her, and Lana found her eyes drawn to the structure of his form outlined in orange from the fire. Though shadows colored in most of his body, she could still see the strain of the muscles in his arms, as well as the way his midsection curved to every one of his movements. With a little smile, she noted he had gained a little weight recently, and realized it was the first time she had noticed it. She attributed it to the recent burden of his father's death, remembering the tragedy was still less than six months old. More than likely, taking care of himself was probably the last thing he wanted to do.

"How have you been recently?" Lana asked, her usual concern for him swelling inside of her due to her observations of his health.

Clark kept his gaze to the fire. "Fine."

"I know it's not easy losing a loved one."

"No," he sighed. "It's not."

"Have you been talking to someone? Your Mom, maybe, or a counselor."

"I have," he said simply, believing it was unnecessary to tell her the name of the one he was currently waiting for matched that of his most trusted confidante.

Lana took his cold tone as a sign to change the subject. She moved to the couch and sat down on the side closest to the kitchen. Tentatively, as she ran her hand over the armrest, she remembered her most recent moment with Clark on this couch. It was a few weeks after they had decided to start their relationship again after a short hiatus at the beginning of the year. Like a gentleman, he had taken her to dinner at one of the few nice restaurants in the Smallville area, and afterwards they had come here with a rented DVD to waste the remainder of their time - some romance comedy with Sandra Bullock in the lead. By the time Sandra Bullock's character was trying to fix the misunderstanding present in the movie, she and Clark were already making out.

However, their date ended with him sleeping in the loft while she spent the night on the couch. His fear of intimacy, she soon discovered, had not dissipated in the least.

"It's okay to still be upset. It's only been a few months. It took me years to get over my parents' death," she said quietly, watching him stand from his kneeling position.

But he remained in front of the fire, his forearm resting on the mantle and his back to her, as he spoke.

"I know," he replied evenly.

He thought of Chloe as Lana tried to comfort him. She had said the same thing to him yesterday morning, while he rested in her arms just hours after they made love. Somehow, though, it sounded different coming from Lana, and he sensed it had everything to do with the feelings he still harbored for her and the very same she was trying to tap into again. He couldn't talk with Lana as he could with Chloe, yet the warm feelings she gave him were undeniable. Lana, even in her limited knowledge of his origins, could always make him feel better.

"I know we're not together anymore," she began softly, "but you can always talk to me. We're still friends."

Clark turned from the fire and walked over to the couch. He sat down on the other side, mindful to keep the distance between them as large as possible. He wanted to think of the best way to tell her to leave, short of _'buzz off, my Honey's comin' '_, but he also didn't want to be rude. Lana seemed lonely, and he hated forcing her out when she, too, was dealing with her own problems. He didn't like denying someone when they were in need of assistance, even if it was just an ear to listen.

However, Lana was imposing on his time with Chloe, and she needed him far worse.

"You know, Lana, I'm glad to hear you still want to be friends and all," Clark replied. "But it's always going to be awkward between us now. Our lack of communication was what caused our break-up in the first place. I don't think, as friends, that'll change."

"We could work on it. Like we always wanted to."

He thought a moment, and let her words float between them. The sweet tone in her voice reminded him of when they were together. It had been his decision to break it off with her, but his intentions had always been to work on the relationship. He wanted to tell her his secrets just as fervently as she wanted to hear them. And he realized the last few months apart from her had not changed that.

If he could have his way, he would tell her everything.

So hesitantly and against his better judgment, he finally admitted, "Yeah ... I would like that."

Lana stared at him for a long second, then finally turned back to the roaring fire. The air had grown thicker in the room, though Lana chose to believe it had something to do with the threatening storm outside. Clouds had rolled in above them since she arrived, dark and menacing. A few raindrops had even appeared on the windows, the first signs of what was to come. Lex would be waiting up for her if she didn't return before the storm began, and Clark, by the careful attention he had given to the living room, was expecting someone. The reasons to be on her way were mounting by the second.

But leaving was the last thing she wanted to do. What she wanted was to tell him everything, now that an opportunity to have a real conversation with him had drifted to the doorstep of their lives, unexpected though no less meaningful. Maybe if she was truthful with him about the real reason for her relationship with Lex, he might be truthful with her in return.

And maybe they could tap into their love for one another once more, never to be buried again.

"You know, Clark, all I wanted from you was honesty," she whispered suddenly, driving the fear from her heart. With it, the original reason why she came here was lost, as well.

Clark cleared his throat. "I know."

Lana fidgeted with the strap of her purse. "I never wanted to break up with you. I was ready to work on it."

"I know," he said again, folding his hands in his lap.

"I guess what I'm saying is, I haven't stopped loving you."

Clark shifted on the couch nervously as she said this, hearing Chloe's voice in his head. _Do you still love her? Because if you do, then I don't have all you. _Only now did he fully understand what she meant. Lana's declaration tugged on the cord of his surviving feelings for her, like a musician strumming the strings of a guitar. She knew how to play him, and knew what to say to make him turn into jello. He could already feel his heart trying to rationalize the reasons why he chose to keep his origins a secret from her, which had been the basis for their break-up to begin with. He even started to believe their love finally deserved to be tested by the truth.

And suddenly everything in his mind was cloudy, incomprehensible. He had no idea what he wanted anymore, or rather of _whom_ he wanted to be with. It had been so clear yesterday; despite the argument he had with Chloe. But now, as he sat next to the woman he had loved his entire life, he wondered if fate was trying to give them a second chance.

_But how could he ever walk away from Chloe now?_

He dipped his head, frustrated with his confusion. Shamefully, as Chloe's lovely face floated in front of his eyes, he realized he was in love with two women. Because though he felt an urgency to say yes to everything Lana was trying to offer him, he also could not forget the week he shared with Chloe. He was a different person with her, and he couldn't bare the thought of waking up tomorrow morning without her sleeping next to him. She had been there when he needed someone the most, and she comforted him when no one else could. She gave him direction, a reason to live. Words of love spoken by his childhood sweat heart could not easily discount what he had with Chloe, because the latter had grown into a formidable force he had never expected, nor had ever known before.

"Clark?" Lana asked, concerned. She shifted closer to him on the couch when he continued to remain still, unmoving. After a moment, she reached over and placed her hand over both of his folded in his lap, but was disappointed when he still didn't turn to her.

So she asked again.

"Clark? Did you hear what I said?"

He nodded, but continued to stare endlessly into the fire. His mind was performing somersaults through the reasons why he should stay with each woman, undecided because of the intensity of love he felt for both. He ached for Chloe, yet he still didn't want to give up on Lana. She had been his dream since they met in kindergarten, and the desire to spend his life with her was resurrected like the phoenix from the ashes of his heart.

_But was their love enough?_

"Do you still love me, Clark?" she asked, gripping his hand.

He nodded again, lowering his eyes to the floor.

Lana moved even closer to him, so close he could feel the warmth emanating from her body. Her hand, once safely atop his, suddenly dipped to his waist, forcing him to close his eyes and grit his teeth against the forthcoming shiver of uncomfortable pleasure.

But his mind began to scream something he didn't expect the moment she touched him - _this was wrong_. Guilt he had never felt before while in Lana's presence started to scour through his insides like a fiery fountain of lava. He knew he should jump out of her arms immediately if he hoped to have any type of a romantic future with Chloe. Just the thought of losing her was enough to make his muscles spasm into action, and his legs start to rise, even if his heart struggled to make the decision for him.

But Lana's other hand touched his cheek, nudging him to glance her way.

Clark turned his gaze to her at her insistence, but not before he caught a glimpse of the Native American blanket folded neatly by the fireplace.

Smiling, she lowered her mouth close to his, and whispered, "Prove it."

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**_tbc_**


	17. Chapter 15

**_Not too far away …_**

The threatening clouds finally opened above Smallville as Chloe sped out of the busier section of town in her VW Bug. Rain sprinkled, and then down-poured on her windshield a second later, and she quickly activated the wipers to help her see. She mumbled with discouragement at the drastic change in weather, realizing she had not given the forecasters on the local news station much consideration when she packed. As a result, she had neglected to bring any coat to wear for her walk from her car to the house. Chloe hoped then that Clark had a fire going when she arrived, because walking in wet clothes was going to give her incentive to immediately sit in front of the fireplace to dry off.

The Kent Farm was on the outskirts of town, so she still had a few minutes of driving until she reached it. Chloe took a quick look at herself in the rearview mirror, and her mascara had streaked around her eyes and down her cheeks. She had cleaned off her face at her apartment before she started her drive to Smallville, but realized since then she had shed quite a few tears. Keeping her hand on the wheel and one eye on the road, she reached for a tissue in her purse to wipe away the make-up.

But even with the streaks gone from her face, it didn't take any extra imagination to see the pain riddled in her features.

It had been awhile since she had felt like this, seemingly lost and broken - the last time being when she finally faced her mother for the first time in years. The worry that she had been the reason why her mother left them had been enough to turn the wheels of the guilt and sadness inside of her, causing an endless stream of tears that only Clark had the chance to see. And only he wiped away, when no one else was around to do so.

Now Chloe was back in that place. She had watched Clark deal with his father's death, with his break-up with Lana, and had been his ear and comforting embrace when he needed it the most. Finally, it was time for him to return the favor, and be the man she needed.

Tall trees more than two hundred yards away appeared ahead of her once she dipped up and over a hill. Chloe knew behind those trees was the house, the farm, and the friend she had been waiting to see. The entrance to the dirt driveway appeared next, just behind those trees and decorated only with a black mailbox set close to the road. On the side of the mailbox was etched the word _"Kent", _looking as _Rockwell-ian_ as the people who lived inside the house itself.

The land, and Smallville as a whole, always gave off an old Americana feeling, pure and timeless as the history inherent in its buildings, streets, and people. The town always had charm in that respect.

Chloe smiled with relief when she finally turned easily into the driveway. She could already feel his body pressed against her and taste the flavor of his skin on her tongue as if she were already inside, nestled in his arms.

So consumed by the ghostly feel of his touch, Chloe neglected to notice the presence of another car parked in the driveway until she was forced to park behind it. She looked through her rainy windshield when she finally noticed it was there, and furrowed her brow in confusion. It was not a car she recognized at first glance, but it did look familiar. Only after she looked to the license plate did she finally remember - "LUTHOR5". The car, as she looked at it again with Lex Luthor in her mind, was one he would drive. Lex usually preferred a Porsche, but this was a red, Ford Thunderbird convertible, with a black top to protect it's interior from the weather. Lex had quite a vast collection of luxury cars, and this was one of his favorites.

With an irritable sigh, Chloe wondered why on earth Lex had come here. No doubt he wanted to rub his relationship with Lana in Clark's face. Just the thought made her want to rush right into the house and declare her relationship with Clark by giving him a wild, passionate kiss. Then she would turn and tell Lex to take that right back to Lana if he wanted to do so, and tell her Clark, clearly, had finally moved on. Lex didn't need to be concerned any further with trying to make Clark feel guilty for his failure to hold onto the person he loved the most.

For the value of what he let go, especially when placed beside what he had now, mattered no longer.

And although Chloe loved her like a sister, she despised how Lana was adding logs to Lex's fire. She knew Clark had hurt Lana when he chose to break off their relationship, but dating his greatest adversary just weeks later was carrying her resentment a bit too far.

When her initial anger had finally faded back to normal, Chloe glanced over to the back porch through the dampening rain. Almost all of the lights inside the house were turned off save for one in the kitchen. Though she couldn't see the source of the light, from experience she knew it had to be coming from the small lamp on the counter. Once she was inside, she was sure only the flickering light from the fireplace would be needed from then on. Chloe closed her eyes when the scene of she and Clark making love in the barn loft returned to her mind. She hoped he had remembered the Native American blanket for them to use tonight. If not, she would make him super speed through the rain to get it.

Chloe laughed quietly to herself when she thought of a drenched Clark Kent. Certainly he would have used his body to protect the blanket from getting wet. In light of this, she knew she wouldn't hesitate to lure him upstairs so they could shower together, so both could warm up from the rain. She had a feeling they wouldn't redress, and choose to spend the rest of the night naked, snuggled together in the darkness while the storm continued to rage outside. There was no question she would learn more about him tonight, as she caressed and studied his beautiful form with both her hands and her eyes. And by the way he would slide his hand down her thigh and along her knee, she could almost feel certain that he had never done this with any other woman before - just lie naked, with no other purpose but to love and touch affectionately.

After another long sigh, she reached into the back seat to retrieve her bag. Then when the downpour looked like it had lessened a degree, Chloe opened the door, closed it quickly, and ran across the driveway to the sidewalk. The sidewalk was flooded with an inch of water, so even her feet were wet by the time she reached the porch steps. She ascended them quickly, with a hand on the rail for balance, and walked up to the screen door. Her head was down to instinctually guard her eyes against the rain and to watch her footsteps so she didn't slip.

Once the porch roof was protecting her from the weather, Chloe finally looked up …

_... looked up and through the screen door only inches ahead of her, her hair wet and bangs hanging listlessly along her forehead ... _

_... and saw that which her heart warned her would come true all along ... _

Chloe felt her breath rush out of her lungs. She placed a hand over her mouth, unable to do anything but watch helplessly as the scene unfolded in front of her.

From the car in the driveway, she expected to catch Lex and Clark in a heated argument. She was even prepared to run in and act as a referee before it turned physical. More so, she was even ready to make Lex leave, and pull Clark into a warm embrace to wipe away his aggression.

Instead she saw Lana sitting on Clark's couch, in front of Clark's roaring, warm fire, and engaged in a kiss with Clark himself. Taking from Chloe what she had been too frightened to officially declare as hers before now … _before it was too late_.

The rain poured harder on the roof above her head. The world imploded like a bomb inside of her chest, sucking away every ounce of her love. And every thought of Clark she had in the car on the way here disappeared like ocean waves washing sand off a beach. Outlines of a future she was ignorant enough to envision were erased from the canvas of her heart, leaving nothing but emptiness in its place. Shame and humiliation invaded her soul, where happiness once lay, making her wonder how she could believe Clark would ever choose her over Lana.

Cold reality pierced through her heart when she realized making love to him for an entire week still hadn't been enough. Clark, no matter what she gave him, would never choose her.

Chloe didn't waste another second of her life staring at her missed chance, or at the scathing betrayal she was too in love to avoid. With a set of new tears brimming her eyes, she turned on her heel and ran back into the cleansing, pouring rain. In the last moments of her retreat, she heard only her heart pounding in her chest, the hasty clip-clop of her feet down the steps, and the roar of her engine as she sped away.

The haunting pulse of their love, after an unforgettable week of purification and definition, had finally been silenced.

00000000000000000000000000000000

_Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. Love does not demand its own way. Love is not irritable, and it keeps no record of when it has been wronged. It is never glad about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. _

_Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance._

_1__st__ Corinthians 13:4 – 7_

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_**Six years later ... **_

Crystal blue skies stretched across the horizon on this midsummer afternoon in Smallville. Though initially beautiful, record heat throughout the day had taken the small town hostage, forcing every building without air conditioning to set extra fans in their windows to help alleviate the unbearable temperatures. People walked to and fro on the sidewalks with only swimsuits and sandals. The sale of iced coffee drinks in the Talon had risen to astronomic levels. And Fordman's Department store had bright, red signs all along the front declaring their convenient sale on cooling products, from soft drinks to window fans, to meet the public's needs.

Every window was open, and the air was infiltrated with the usual complaints from disgruntled townsfolk angry at with the uncomfortable weather.

However, there were a few people who said nothing … one being the man who lived in the house beyond the screen door just ahead, five years removed from the events of this world.

A shadow, probably a woman by the shape, stood motionless at this screen door. Then after a moment of nervous anticipation...

_Knock, knock._

Peering in, nothing in the house seemed to move in reaction to the sound. Everything remained still except for a page in an opened magazine on the counter flapping in the warm breeze surfing through the kitchen. After a careful study, it was clear the familiar rooms had not changed over the years, which came as no surprise to the eyes who looked in. The kitchen still had the small island in the middle of the room, though the decorative cabinets were different from before.

Yes, the woman recalled, there was news that Martha Kent had remodeled a bit after she left the Senate a few years prior.

Beyond the kitchen was the living room, where a clear view of the couch still remained through the entrance. The fire was quiet, of course, due to the heat outside. A plate sat empty on the coffee table, with a cup of drunken tea set just above it. Old newspapers were stacked aside the small table setting, searched through a million times over. The scene almost looked eerie in its simplicity, as it was not what was expected. No soft drink cans, no wrappers, no leftover food ... no chaos of any kind.

Though no one came on the first knock, certainly someone had to be here. The recent use of dishware testified to that.

So she knocked again.

_Knock, knock. Knock, knock._

Finally the sound of footsteps on the nearby stairs broke the silence. They came at an unhurried pace, just as easy and casual as the man who made them.

For when she finally looked into Clark Kent's eyes after all this time, there was only a shadow of the man she once knew. He had turned to her when he reached the bottom of the stairs, but took a long moment before he moved. Subdued amazement and shock at her unexpected presence filtered into his features the longer he stared, the longer he took it all in. Cows mooed in the distance, horses galloped through open grass ... and hearts kept apart for far too long began to beat in time once more, as if they had never been separated.

He squinted his eyes at her hard, seemingly trying to clear his vision as he finally approached her.

With a little smile, he pushed the screen door open. Though he couldn't precisely describe the happiness he felt from seeing her, it was not the reason why he continued to stare.

He stared because he had never seen her look so beautiful … or as a brunette.

"Chloe?" he whispered, blinking his eyes against the sun streaming through the porch.

Chloe Sullivan smiled brightly.

"Yes," she said softly. "It's me."

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**_tbc_**


	18. Chapter 16

**A/N:** _Thank you to all of the readers. I know the last section was a toughie. I was amazed with the vast range of reviews/complaints I received. But that's okay. Many of you said you didn't like the last section, because of the content and partly because of the way I wrote it. Seriously, it's all good. Because honestly, you weren't supposed to like it. I think I wrote it okay, but the dislike of the events was hard to accept. _

_However, everything in my stories has a reason for being there. _

_And things we see aren't always what they seem. _

_I hope this next section helps answers some of your questions, as well as soothes your weariness. I have a Chlark heart, and I would never lead my fellow Chlark fans and readers of good Chlark astray. _

**0000000000000000000000000**

**Stay With Me: Part Two**

_It's about, um … about waiting. These two people, they meet, they almost fall in love. But the timing isn't right. They have to part. And then years later, they meet again, and they get another chance. You know … but they don't know if too much time has passed, or if they waited too long, or if it's … you know … too late to make it work._

Kate (Sandra Bullock)  
- from _The Lake House_

**Only a second later … **

Chloe didn't know what to say next. She had envisioned what it might feel like to see Clark again, but never realized how apprehensive it would make her feel. Clark Kent rarely made her nervous, and the thought alone made her want to turn right around and go back home. Furthermore, as he continued to stare curiously, motionless and unreadable, she wondered if coming here after all this time had been a good idea. Five years of no communication was a long time for a friendship to endure, and there was no guarantee that the man standing before her resembled the one she remembered. It might be impossible to continue their friendship where they left it, there in their last moment together under an old oak tree just behind the Kent Farm.

The memory of that moment came back to her as she looked at him now, standing there in the rays of a dying, Smallville sun. She remembered the sadness in his eyes when he told her he was going away, back to his biological father for the training he had been putting off for far too long. And although she had thought of a million different reasons for him to stay, she had kept quiet while he spoke of duty and his future. She had even promised herself, while she watched him disappear into the horizon, to move on with her own life as if she didn't expect him to return.

However, regardless of the sincerity in her heart when she made that promise, Chloe still spent the better part of the next five years worrying for him and wondering if he was all right. Mostly she had thought of him in the evenings, whenever she watched the sunset dip below the city skyline or heard the crickets sing their sweet lullaby. She wondered where he was, if he was thinking of her, and whether they were watching the same moon, the same stars, or the same thunderstorms. Innocently believing they were sharing a minute together always made her smile, and always made her feel closer to him.

There were even moments late at night when she could feel him lying next to her in bed, with soft breath grazing her neck in the consuming darkness.

Yet after a minute or so of being in his presence, it was clear that the Clark Kent she had come looking for, and the same she yearned for on lonely nights, no longer existed. Time, as well as distance, had changed him. The young boy she remembered in her dreams, playing and laughing with her on midsummer days, no longer resided in those handsome blue eyes. Clark Kent was now a man, tested and weathered by time, heartache, and pain. He seemed calmer and more relaxed because of everything he had been through, the remainder of his innocence having been the obvious sacrifice to achieve this new level of maturity and sense of peace.

Along with the exit of his youth, the weight of the world seemed to have been lifted from his shoulders, as well. And if he did still secretly carry such a burden, she couldn't tell.

Among the internal changes she sensed in him, Chloe also noticed the obvious physical changes, as well. Instead of the white T-shirt and jeans look she was so used to back in high school, he was dressed casually in khaki shorts and a blue, button down, short-sleeved shirt. The first three buttons at the top of his shirt were unclasped, and he looked a few days unshaven by the whiskers she saw on his chin, upper lip, and jaw line. Just his style of dress was sexy enough, but Chloe couldn't get over how _amazing_ he looked. Training with his father had given him a toned exterior, and the muscles he had earned in his youth through diligent farm work and good genes looked stronger, more defined.

"It's so great to see you," he said suddenly, smiling brightly. He almost moved forward to give her a hug, but caught himself before he let it happen. It had been five years, after all - and though they shared a history, he could already tell the space between them had changed. Friendly hugs may not be the norm any longer.

Chloe, on the other hand, returned his smile rather affectionately and couldn't stop herself from staring at him. _He just looked so good_ ... the more she noticed how the fabric of his shirt clung to his muscled torso. He looked more gorgeous than ever, both because of how he looked and the way he held himself. She felt her cheeks flush when forgotten, passionate memories flashed through her mind, and she quickly glanced up into his eyes again to make them go away. This was no time to lose herself to moments from an irresponsible past.

"You, too," she finally whispered, cursing herself for her lack of composure.

But she was not the only one staring at body form.

Clark had also let his eyes linger south. Chloe looked just as beautiful as the day he left her, and he enjoyed using his eyes to follow the same curve lines he had memorized long ago. The passing years had blessed her with a radiant glow, intensified further by her casual, sophisticated style of dress. She wore beige shorts, sandals, a short-sleeved, silky green blouse, and sunglasses in her brunette hair. The blouse attracted him the most, because he shamefully noticed how the V-neck gave him just a tiny glimpse of her cleavage. He never told her this, but other than her personality and characteristics, he loved her body.

He couldn't count the number of instances, especially after their short romance, that he stared at her wantonly, overcome by her curves, by her eyes, and, yes, by the wonderful outline of her breasts.

But more than anything else, she still had the same, beautiful smile he remembered from his dreams.

However, despite the similarities, there was still so much about her that seemed different.

Thinking back now, Clark realized the person he had been a friend with for years had merely been a teenage girl, endearingly innocent and mostly unscathed by the hardships of life.

Only now did she carry herself as a beautifully confident woman. He could tell without her having to say a word that she had been successful in her life's pursuits. Though he had not seen her name in the Daily Planet, he was sure she had done something meaningful with her life. He had wondered about her all through his training, when he had the chance to think of home and the people he loved. Amazingly, she had been at the forefront of his mind, more than anyone else.

At the most difficult moments of his trials, she had been the only one capable of giving him peace.

Clark blushed a deep crimson when he suddenly realized his gaze had not ventured far from her breasts in all the time he had been thinking of her. He looked back up into her eyes sheepishly, and prayed Chloe didn't catch his momentary lack of control. Unfortunately, he sensed he would always think of Chloe with a sexy undertone, no matter how many times he tried to stop himself. Making love to her more than half a dozen times promised his heart would never forget what she looked like while lost in the throes of passion. If anything, his little past romance with Chloe had made her even more beautiful in his eyes.

Now with his mind back fully to the present, he also noticed they were still standing in the doorway.

"Sorry," he murmured, stepping backwards into the kitchen. "I've been away for so long, I guess I forgot my manners. Do you want to come in?"

Chloe smirked as she stepped inside. "I wondered how long it was going to take you. I thought you were going to let the sun cremate me."

"Well, can I make it up to you by offering you a drink? Iced-Tea, water?"

"Iced-tea sounds wonderful."

Clark walked to the refrigerator, gesturing to the stools nestled against the island counter as he went through the kitchen. "Have a seat, if you'd like."

Chloe took up his offer and sat on the stool closest to the door. _In case, of course, this little meeting went sour and I have to make a quick exit_.

"The kitchen looks great," she observed, deciding to bring to attention the least changed detail to ease their way into the forthcoming conversation. "I had no idea your Mom wanted to go all Home and Garden."

"I didn't think she wanted to, either," he said, pouring iced-tea from a plastic container into two clear glasses. "But after she resigned her Senate seat, she had enough money in her retirement to do something a little extra for herself. She always complained about not having enough cupboard space."

"For someone as culinary-blessed as your mother, she deserves a nice kitchen."

Clark walked to the counter and handed her a glass of iced-tea. "She told me you stopped coming to sample her cooking quite a few years ago. She liked having you around, you know. You were always like the daughter she never had."

"I know," Chloe conceded regretfully, setting her glass on the counter. "Life doesn't always allow you to do the things you want."

"Or give you the things you want."

Chloe glanced to him, noting the drop of sadness in his soft smile. Though she didn't know why he had said his last statement, she sensed it had something to do with her. She never understood his feelings in the past, and decided against trying to start now.

To break the whisper of tension in the air, she took a sip from her iced tea, and then changed the subject. "So, big hero ... how did daddy treat you?"

Clark shrugged, averting his eyes to his glass. "Okay," he murmured. "He taught me everything about the Kryptonian culture. Put me through a lot of training, as well. Logical, reasoning, and especially physical."

Chloe gave him an appreciative over, and whispered, "I can tell."

He blushed immediately after she said it, as did she at her candor, and both quickly turned back to their drinks, each staring at their own glass as if it was going to shatter in their hand at any moment. A comment like that would have been taken lightly had they not slept together so long ago. The shadow of the line they crossed, of the love still left unattended, had always made things since then a little awkward between them.

Then Clark, sensing Chloe's embarrassment and fighting his own, offered softly, "You look good, too."

Chloe quickly sipped her drink to hide her smile. And as the sweet taste rolled over her tongue, she reminded herself why she was here - to abate her curiosity, and for no other reason. Clark was her friend, above all else, and she was here to see him. She was not here to flirt with him after all this time, nor was she here to sleep with him again. No ... the time of their romance had long since ended, its chapter closed for good the moment he chose to kiss another woman.

In all their years together, friendship had always been the best course for them.

_Right?_

"How did you know I had returned?" he asked, slicing through the thick air with the calm of his voice.

Chloe rubbed her forefinger around the rim of the glass, thankful for meaningless details. Yes, there was still so much they didn't know about each other.

"I heard about the house fire in Smallville a few days ago. A mother and her young daughter claimed they were carried out of their upstairs living room by a bolt of lightning, and then watched from their front yard as an unlikely, chaotic weather pattern produced a gush of wind that blew the fire out."

Clark turned white at her description of the events, his eyes wide with guilt.

"Needless to say, after I heard the witness testimonies, it left little room for interpretation. Short of them seeing the first signs of the Apocalypse, there was only one other conclusion to make."

He shifted nervously and rubbed the stubble growing just under his chin. In this new light from the kitchen, Chloe noticed the whiskers she saw from before looked more like a light beard. Maybe he had missed more than just a few days of shaving.

"Once you came back, I guess it didn't take you long to resume your folk hero behavior," she mused gently.

"Not when I knew I could help," he said, the shame he felt for using his abilities almost gone completely from his voice. He had always been embarrassed by what he could do, even when he saved people's lives. Being abnormal had never sat well with him.

"So was that the career path he wanted you to follow all this time? To be a hero? You haven't conquered the world yet, so I imagine his intentions for you were not nearly as sinister as you previously thought."

He glanced out the screen door window before he spoke. "Yes. He wants me to expand my heroics a little outside of Smallville." After a long moment, he turned back to her with an embarrassed smile. "I still haven't figured out the details yet."

Chloe nodded silently, then took another sip from her glass. She just couldn't get over how much he had changed. Though she always loved him dearly, Clark had a tendency, in her opinion, to obsess over the same handful of subjects: his difficulty accepting his heritage and his ill-fated love for Lana Lang being the most prominent. The former she never minded hearing him discuss, because she knew how hard it must have been for him to carry the secret of his true identity alone for so many years. The latter, however, irritated her and almost always brought out the worst in him. She couldn't count the number of times she wanted to slap him when he was acting childish or immature, especially when those attitudes filtered into other parts of his life.

At the moment, however, Chloe didn't sense Lana in his words, or his mood. Perhaps in the halls of his training he decided to give up on the unattainable, and stop obsessing over the things he couldn't control.

And for Clark's sake, she prayed her assessment of his feelings for Lana were correct.

"So how about you?" he asked, nudging her free from her train of thought. "Other than experimenting with hair color, what else have you been doing since I've been gone?"

This time the direction of their conversation had Chloe shifting nervously in her seat. She knew trying to ignore the five hundred pound gorilla in the room would only last so long. Clark has only known her with blonde hair, so the physical change alone was enough to peek his curiosity. More than that, by the old Daily Planet papers stacked on his couch, she was certain he sensed something in her life was awry when he didn't see her name in any of them.

"So much happened while you were away," she finally replied, her eyes looking up into his weakly. "I don't even know where to start."

Clark reached his hand over to hers resting on the counter. Rubbing his thumb gently along her fingers, he said simply, "How about the beginning?"

Chloe had forgotten how easy it was for her to talk to him. Clark never failed to entice her into conversation in the past, even if talking about her problems was the last thing she wanted to do. Something about him, about the way he listened, made her believe even the most dreadful event in her life would disappear. Though his love for another woman always seemed to play spoiler, there were moments just before he left that made her believe she was the most important woman in his life - even if he never said it and even if his actions often spoke otherwise.

With a little sigh, she found herself falling back into old routines. Venting to Clark was the tonic she had been craving all this time, in the five years since he's been out of her life. Maybe it was too soon to expect him to be there for her, to listen and understand ... but a goodbye kiss shared underneath an old oak tree promised her their friendship was right where she needed it to be.

Time had not stretched their friendship too thin. On the contrary, as she started to realize now, it was strengthened.

"A year after you left I started investigating a crime boss in Metropolis," Chloe explained softly. "I was tapping into every source I had, and spending more time camped out in my car outside of condemned buildings than inside my own apartment. I had heard the stories of others before me trying to play super reporter, never to be seen again. But it didn't scare me. Wasting the sunrise of my career in the basement had finally taxed out my patience, so I was willing to do anything. I thought a first-rate, good old-fashioned expose was the easiest way to finally see my name on the front page."

Clark rolled his eyes. "Sounds like the Chloe Sullivan I'm used to. You always knew how to get yourself in trouble."

"Well, Lois agreed with you. She caught the curt-tails of my exuberant bid for upper level journalism, and decided she wanted on the front lines. Said she wanted to watch out for me, but I knew better. She was actually looking for the next hook for her column in the Metropolis Star tabloid."

"Doesn't surprise me."

Chloe took a second before she continued. Her expression grew dim, shadowy, and Clark tightened his grip on her hand to encourage her. The sadness in her eyes spoke volumes, though he couldn't decode it. Something tragic had happened while he was away. The more Chloe waited in those seconds, summoning her courage to go on, the more concerned he became.

"She interrupted me on a stake-out one night. I had heard from one of my sources that a loan shark was going to pay the crime boss a visit, so I waited behind a warehouse just outside of their building to steal a few pictures. Maybe even sneak inside if I found the chance."

Clark shook his head. "You two never could play nice when it came to journalism. Did she ruin the exclusive for you? Blow your cover?"

"Worse," Chloe said, a slight shudder in her voice. "She came wearing a disguise, a blonde wig and a hat, because she had every intention of breaking in. When I couldn't convince her to stay in the car, I naively followed her into the building. We hid behind a few crates on the second level. Just before the henchmen noticed we had crashed the party, we heard the crime boss drop the names of a few local bankers they were blackmailing.

"What we didn't know until afterwards was that they had known of my involvement and investigation into their dealings for some time. Some leak at the Planet had given them my name. So they chased us with extra fervor that night, looking for me in particular. We ran from them as fast as we could, and for quite a while. But ... in the end, it wasn't enough."

Clark inched closer to her. Her face turned as white as snow the longer she let her words hang there between them. He could already see tears unfolding down her cheeks. He wiped one of them away as he pressed her on further, gently, "What happened?"

Chloe grasped his hand tighter, stared up into his warming eyes, and went on. "They shot Lois in the back. We were less than fifty yards from my car, but it was too late. When she couldn't stand, I dragged her the rest of the way. I drove her to the hospital ... but she died before we got there."

"Oh, Chloe," he breathed, running his hand up her arm. "I'm so sorry."

She turned away from him to look out the screen door, into the fields of fresh, lush grasses just beyond the red barn. Rehashing the story was never easy.

"Lionel Luthor heard what happened and came to me in the hospital. He was my biggest fan during the entire investigation, because the crime boss I targeted was his most ruthless nemesis. Regardless of his personal reasons to see my name in lights, he took care of everything. Since the henchmen thought they killed a blonde-headed reporter, Lionel had my identity switched with Lois' before the sun rose the next morning.

"Apparently Luthor and the CEO of the Daily Planet attended the same country club, as well, because he even took care of _Lois Lane's_ career change. Other than a few people who knew me by face, no one knew the difference."

"I can't believe it," Clark sighed heavily, unable to fully comprehend what Chloe had been through. More than anything, he wished he had been here to help. He had always been protective of her, and he hated seeing her suffer alone.

"I have to give Lionel credit for coming to my rescue, though," she replied after a long moment. "He stepped in immediately and saved me from my swim with the fishes. Even if he did it to help his own agenda, I'll always be grateful."

Clark glanced over to the newspapers stacked on the couch. He had zipped through them in super speed, trying to catch up with the most recent news before he stepped back into the world. He remembered feeling it strange that he hadn't seen Chloe Sullivan in any of the bylines. However, the name Lois Lane had frequently appeared on numerous front-page news articles, at least three or four times in a seven-day span.

It hadn't even occurred to him that the name was being used as an alias.

"So now you're writing under Lois' name?"

Chloe nodded quietly. "But not just because I have to," she whispered, heartfelt and saddened. "But also in honor. I know she followed me of her own free will, but it was my fault she was killed."

Clark's head began to spin a little as he tried to fathom everything she had told him. This was not at all what he had expected to find. He didn't know why, but he believed everything and everyone he loved was going to be exactly the same when he finally came home. What surprised him the most, as he thought about these new developments a little harder, was his mother's clear aversion of the subject of his friends. He remembered asking her how everyone had been, but she merely shrugged his questions off and suggested he look for everyone himself.

Now he knew why she had been so concerned, and so careful.

"Lois is dead then," he murmured in the silence, finally coming to terms with what Chloe's story truly told him.

Chloe rubbed her thumb over his, returning his affection. "Lois Lane, my cousin ... yes, she's passed, buried in the Smallville Cemetery under the name of yours truly. But Lois Lane, the reporter, still exists."

Clark felt a twinge of sadness clip at his heart. He had always thought fondly of Lois. In fact, despite the physical attraction he felt for her, he mostly considered her a good friend - perhaps even like a sister on a good day. She helped him through some very difficult times, the death of his father being no exception. However, though he immediately found himself missing her and saddened by her tragic death, he didn't cry or feel overly burdened by her loss. Strangely, the five years apart from her, from his life in Smallville, had worried away a few of the other relationships he had once built and held so close. He knew on his return that a few friendships from his past would have to be re-established, his involvement with Lois Lane being one of them.

However, his friendship with Lois Lane had not been the only casualty of his training.

"While we're on the subject of friends," he said softly, turning to Chloe. "How is Lana?"

Slowly, Chloe pulled her hand away from Clark. She sipped her iced tea, took a moment, and then replied evenly, "She's doing well."

Clark smiled. "Good," he said, meaning it. "That's good to hear, at least."

"Still an active member of a marriage."

He glanced to his glass timidly. His stomach rolled a little uncomfortably, but not with the same sadness or helplessness he felt when he watched the love of his life marry another man just over five years prior. He'll never forget the day he waited in his barn loft for Lana, only to find out she had recanted on her promise to leave Lex at the alter to be with him instead. His own dreadful curiosity took him to the church that evening, just in time to see Lana slip from him and into the arms of a complete monster. It had taken him weeks to get over it, and was probably the reason he had so eagerly accepted his biological father's insistence to finally finish his training. Letting Lana Lang go had not been easy for him.

"To Lex?" he asked, glancing up to her.

Chloe smirked knowingly. "Well, you wouldn't believe it ... ".

"What?"

"Lana finally jumped off the Luthor bandwagon a few months after you left. The two divorced - in front of the entire Metropolis wealthy collective, unfortunately. But it was for the best, and Lana knew it. A few days after the ink was dry on the divorce papers, an old friend came back into town."

"Really? Who?"

"You do remember Pete, don't you?"

Clark's face beamed immediately at the mention of the name. Moments from his childhood flashed in front of his eyes, and he saw Pete in every single one of them. Pete Ross had been his best friend for quite awhile, before Chloe surfaced in his life. He and Pete had some wild times in Smallville, even if their definition of wild meant sneaking out on summer evenings for a swim in Crater Lake, or forcing Chloe to venture through haunted houses on Halloween night.

"Of course ... how could I forget?" he said finally, smiling from ear to ear. Then after a moment, when it hit him ... "Pete married Lana?"

Chloe shrugged as she took another sip from her iced tea. "Seems our politically-enthused friend from high school turned his natural aspirations into a career. Pete came back through Metropolis because he had just recently nailed a job on a re-election committee for a local Senator from Kansas. The Senator was throwing a celebration gala in the Metropolis Natural History Museum, and Pete wanted to bring a date to hang decoratively on his arm. I was busy with another case, so he asked Lana to join him in my stead."

"And just like that..."

"Yup," she conceded, shaking her head. "Just like that, they were the premiere couple on every high society magazine cover in Metropolis. A year later they snuck off to Hawaii and eloped on a beach at sunset. I flew in from Metropolis just long enough to witness their vows. The two of them have been joined at the hip ever since."

Clark sighed and leaned back in his stool, wanted to say something, but quickly bit on his tongue. There wasn't anything more to say, and he didn't want to give Chloe the wrong impression.

"She's very happy, I think. It's a good thing for her," Chloe offered, sensing his mixed emotions. She expected them once he heard the path Lana had chosen for herself. Five years or not, one does not so easily fall out of love with someone special.

No ... it's not easy at all.

Clark ran his hand along the counter, then asked softly, "And you? Are you ... uh ... with anyone?"

Chloe smiled when she heard the slight anxiety in his voice. It was good to hear, especially after all this time. And she knew of whom he was referring, the one she was with just before he left. He never said anything, but by the fire in his eyes when he saw her with the other man, she knew Clark had been jealous now and then. To be perfectly honest, it gave her satisfaction to know he was suffering from afar while watching her love someone else. After the heartache he had caused her, it was no wonder his jealousy soothed her frustrations, and eased her sadness.

In the end, her attempt to hurt him only pushed him further into Lana's arms, to the very place that had caused their separation.

At the moment, however, the jealousy still blazing in the blue iris of his eyes served a different purpose. Rather than make her feel better in a time of pain, just as it had so many years ago, it created a whirlwind inside of her, whipping her emotions like sand in a sandstorm. And suddenly the certainty she had built inside her heart before she came here was gone, fallen to ruin by a force much too powerful to ignore.

Destroyed by a force, by a love, trying desperately to be felt again.

Sheepishly, she averted her gaze back to her iced tea once more. She knew she couldn't lie to him, no matter how hard she wanted to.

"No," she admitted, unable to hide the vulnerability shone through her features. "I'm alone."

Clark stared at her hard, suddenly realizing from her words why destiny had brought her back to him. With a soft smile, he finished his iced tea in one gulp, and then he stood up from his stool. "You know, I'm starving. I was about to start dinner before you came. Would you like to stay?"

Chloe hesitated. Everything inside of her told her to decline his offer.

But common sense was up against a formidable foe.

"All right," she said, cautiously, aware of her emotions. _I'm only staying to eat. No frantic sex on the kitchen table_. "I'll stay. As long as you don't make me taste test the newest release of your stir-fry. A girl can only handle so much abuse."

Clark laughed. "You drive a hard bargain, Sullivan."

Chloe stood from her stool and took their two glasses to the sink. "It's Lane, remember? I don't need you dropping in here from your magical Fortress in the sky, fresh out of the Kryptonian School of Heroism, and blowing my cover after all this time."

He smiled wider as he listened to her sarcasm. She washed the glasses in the sink, and went on about how important it was for him to be mindful of his mouth when they were in public. Hero or not, he could still find himself at the business end of a kryptonite constructed bullet right up the ass if he wasn't careful.

Yes ... destiny had given him a sweet gift indeed.

_A second chance. _

0000000000000000000

**_tbc_**


	19. Chapter 16a

_**Later That Evening ... **_

Over the next hour, Chloe helped Clark prepare dinner. No chicken stir-fry, just as he promised. Instead he fried two salmon filets he bought from the market that same afternoon. While he simmered and flavored the fish, he asked Chloe to work on the other sections of the meal. She fixed a garden salad from the head of iceberg lettuce he purchased on his grocery run, and also sliced the fresh loaf of bread Martha Kent had baked earlier in the week. Next she set the dining room table for two, initially setting her at one end and him at the other to help alleviate a little of the tension from their previous conversation. But once she noticed how far apart they would be sitting while they ate, she realized how ridiculous it looked. Their sitting arrangement would look more like a formal dinner at the Luthor mansion rather than an informal dinner in an old farmhouse.

And, if anything, the distance between them would only make their dinner more awkward.

So she reset the table with him at the head, so he was facing out the window, and her sitting kitty corner at his right. Much better.

"There's some wine in the refrigerator," Clark called from the kitchen.

Chloe looked up from the table setting. "Wine?" she called back, certain she had misheard him. She slipped back into the kitchen and found him still standing at the stove, his back to her, tending to the fish. She leaned her hip against the counter and crossed her arms. "Was there an after school Connoisseur Club back on Krypton?"

Clark glanced at her over his shoulder. "What?"

"It's just not like you," she insisted softly, walking to the fridge.

"Well," he whispered, turning back to his fish. "I've changed. Just like you."

Chloe opened the refrigerator door half-expecting to find only a jug of lemonade and half-empty plastic container of iced-tea. But sure enough, after a ten second search she found a new bottle of red wine nestled in the side of the door. She pulled it out, let the door close behind her, and turned the bottle over in her hands to look at the label. Unfortunately, her college life gave her little experience with wine and more time spent with beer and hard liquor when the occasion called for it. Chloe was embarrassed to recall the number of times she let the alcohol get the best of her.

Of course, her _"drunken phase" _was short, and came after a certain black-haired, raven beauty left her alone under an old oak tree. No amount of sex with her boyfriend at the time was going to help her get over the real love of her life.

With a little smile, she noted how easily alcohol seemed to dull the ache. Yes, it worked rather well.

"Having never seen anything worse than month old cider in your refrigerator," Chloe finally replied, letting her memories seep from her mind, "I'm just a little surprised."

Clark shrugged and turned around halfway to face her. He wiped his hands on a flowery dishtowel hanging from the oven door handle as he spoke. "I ventured into Wine Country while I was in California."

"California? I thought your first stop on the Inter-Galactic railway back to earth was Smallville?"

He smirked. "It was. But I heard of a forest fire in California and I helped detain it. One of the homeowners I saved gave me a bottle of wine for my trouble."

Chloe glanced back at the label. "Pinot Noir," she read aloud. "I've heard of it, but I've never tried it."

"Me neither. But the man who gave it to me said the flavor was an excellent compliment to fish."

"So you bought the fish to try the wine."

Clark shrugged as he turned the heat down on the fish just a tad. "Not exactly. I bought the salmon today without ever thinking of the wine," he admitted. He gazed to her over his shoulder again, and gave her a little wink. "I guess it was destiny."

Chloe felt her body warm at the sudden flash of lust in his eyes. To help hide the red flush on her cheeks, she turned away from him and shifted to the cupboards to retrieve two clear glasses for the wine. She tried not to think of the way Clark had been looking at her, the way he winked at her and flirted with her. It had been ages since he had last done such a thing, and it still made her feel embarrassingly aroused.

But Clark always knew how to make her feel uncomfortable, just by using his gorgeous eyes and beautiful smile.

Even during that fateful week of lovemaking so long ago, his insistent, sexually driven stares made her feel shy and nervous. No man before him, or since for that matter, had ever made her feel so needed, so craved in such a primal way. And only afterwards, when the sex with Clark was gone, did she realize how _incredible _it had been with him.

"I don't have any wine glasses, though," Clark said as he removed the fish from the frying pan and set it on a serving plate. "We'll have to use regular, I guess."

_Now he tells me, after I try to unsuccessfully hide my embarrassment in a futile search for something meaningless. _

"Okay."

She groaned under her breath. With wine in hand, she grabbed two tall glasses from the cupboard and returned to the dining room.

Obviously Clark was not going to make this easy.


	20. Chapter 17

**_Some time later …_**

Surprising to both, their dinner together went by pleasantly. The tension from earlier had begun to fade with the help of memories, food and wine. Though they spoke often of their shared past in Smallville, their conversation through the late evening centered mostly on the last five years, exchanging countless stories to help fill in the gaps for each other.

Chloe listened intently while Clark recounted the details from his trials. Jor-El, his biological father, had taught him everything there was to know about Krypton, such as its culture, it's geographical make-up, and it's people. He also taught his son everything about Earth - at least, what Clark didn't already know. Because of his ability to learn and read quickly, by the time Clark returned home from his training he could speak more than sixty percent of his adoptive planet's vast array of different languages. He had also become familiar with the societies behind those languages, having traveled through and resided in more than a hundred countries at his father's insistence. Jor-El felt it was important for his son to understand the people of Earth better if he ever wanted to serve them.

But more than the intellectual strides he had made, Clark had also strengthened his physique, his endurance, and had redefined his sense of right and wrong to help him become the complete hero humanity needed. Though he didn't like being away from his friends and family for such a long stretch of time, the experienced had matured him. He was a better person because of what his biological father had put him through, no longer stressed with the emotional burdens that so often kept him chained back in high school. He knew what he had to do now, and he accepted his responsibility with the heart of a hero ready to assume his destiny.

Clark Kent had become the leader, the example his biological father had wanted him to be all along.

Only after he finished talking did Chloe realize how long it had been since Clark had shared the latest secrets of his Kryptonian heritage. He used to confide in her constantly when they were merely a breath away from one another, down the road less than a microsecond in the timeframe of a hero. Certainly he was different now; something she concluded from the way he spoke, the way he laughed and conversed. Thankfully, this new version of Clark found no reason to hesitate in his storytelling. He told her everything, just as he always did, and left nothing out.

Chloe, on the other hand, told him everything there was to know about her life and career at the Daily Planet. And she wasn't surprised when his questions centered mainly on her name change, longing for an in-depth explanation. Because of the obvious security reasons, she had never considered sharing the full story with anyone until now. Clark had proved to her over the course of the evening that his devotion to their friendship had not weakened at all while they were apart. With it, she knew her trust in him had not weakened, either.

So, with no surprise, she didn't hesitate yielding to his curiosity - just as he did to hers earlier in their evening.

By the time Chloe began to tell him the first details of her darkest hour, they had moved from the dining room table to the back porch swing to make themselves more comfortable. The wine was still with them, half drunk and nestled at their feet as they sat together in the warm summer night. Clark was sitting closer to her than she expected him to, with his right arm stretched along the back of the swing behind her shoulders and his left hand holding his glass of wine between his legs. She could feel his right thigh pressed gently against her left, his heat, his closeness, and his cologne overwhelming her. Though she considered shifting away from him a little to keep a healthy distance between them during their conversation, Chloe didn't move. Maybe it was the weather, her heart, or even the warm drape of the wine over her senses, but using caution in Clark's presence was suddenly the last thing she wanted to do.

And with this right hand brushing over her right shoulder, she told him everything, starting from the beginning.

Less than a few hours after Lois was killed, Chloe used her cousin's name to write her final article on the crime boss she had been investigating. However, she never had the chance to see her work in print, as Lionel Luthor sent her away the next day to protect her under his watchful eye and infinite financial resources. She then spent the next full year in Europe, waiting until the world settled down and the men who once hunted her were behind bars or dead. Further still, she waited until the name _Chloe Sullivan _had been efficiently lost and forgotten in the sands of time, remembered only by a few friends and locals in Smallville who were saddened and shocked by her untimely death.

Yes, because even her friends and family were fooled by the lavish funeral Lionel had paid for. He kept the hasty switch of identities and the casket sealed beneath layers of pleasantries, sadness, and lies. By the time she was flying in the Luthor jet high over the Atlantic Ocean to escape her failures, everyone in her life believed _she_ had been killed and _Lois_ had been sent away in her stead. Diversion of the truth was essential to ensure her safe arrival into Luthor's personal sanctuary, to help her live another day.

However, even after the swell of the funeral was over, outside contact with her closest friends was forbidden until her safety was certain. And although she knew the precaution was necessary, she hated living a lie, living in secret. She couldn't bare the thought of her father and friends believing she was dead, and having no way of telling them she was okay. Further yet, she could hardly sleep at night knowing she was the reason why Lois had been killed. Sam Lane had no idea his daughter was the actual body in the casket, buried under the tombstone labeled Chloe Sullivan as an attempt to rescue the _real_ Chloe Sullivan from further danger. It sickened Chloe just to think of the sacrifice Lois and Sam had made, neither knowing otherwise; to help wipe away the devastating mistakes she's carelessly committed.

And only she, Lionel, and a handful of his closest, most trusted aides knew the truth.

Along with no communication with her family, Chloe was also forbidden to tap into the outside world during her lockdown. Lionel stashed her in a gorgeous cottage less than a mile off the Grecian Coast lining the Mediterranean Sea. The land was beautiful, the people kind and friendly, and she had been fully equipped with all of the bare essentials. However, Lionel had thought it best to keep her as out of tune with the world as the world was out of tune with her. So she had no cell phone, no television, and no Internet access to help her pass the time. The only communication she did have was through the landline phone from her cottage, and it barely had enough juice to make a call to the next town. If there was an emergency, Lionel left her with a tiny earpiece in which she could call his nearest office for assistance.

Otherwise, only the occasional visit from one of his men reminded her there was another world outside of the one she was currently leashed to.

For the first month of her isolation Chloe stayed in doors, content with the life of a hermit because of the shame she could not ignore. She hid mostly in her bedroom, under shades, candlelight, and blinded by her salty, guilt-ridden tears. When living became bearable again, she kept her mind off of her personal transgressions with mundane tasks. She shopped in the street market of the local town, spent hours in study, and wrote daily in her journal. She also visited with her neighbors and walked the countryside when she deemed her surroundings safe. She even outlined a novel and wrote the first few chapters.

But usually the tasks weren't enough. Chloe was intensely disgusted by her own actions, so she naturally and prudently spent quality time in personal reflection on her life and the choices she had made. Over lemon-flavored tea, inside next to the fire when it was cold and outside on the terrace when it was warm, she reminisced on the events, the tragedies, and the faces most important to her. Lois tended to be at the center of her sadness, followed closely by her father and her friends. Long evenings under a cloud-covered moon often set her most dismal feelings in motion, brought on by an overwhelming sense of inadequacy growing deep inside her heart. Any measure of confidence she had ever earned in her life and career before then had been swept away.

And for the first time in her life she felt truly alone. Though Chloe didn't divulge this to Clark during their conversation, she remembered how strongly she prayed for his heroic return, to save her from the darkest chapter of her life. Long evenings had not only resurfaced her feelings of inadequacy, but they had also resurfaced her desperate need for the only person who could comfort her. Thoughts of the oak tree often visited her on those dark nights, and even if he wasn't there with her, the memory of his smile and the impression of his kiss always made her feel a little better.

Of course, the impression and memory of him was nothing compared to the real thing.

They sat together in a comfortable silence after she finished. Clark seemed lost in his own world as he tried to fully understand the depths of danger Chloe had survived while he was away. By the thickness in the air, Chloe could sense his guilt. She had come to recognize the signs of it over the course of their friendship. They were too close not to feel apologetic towards one another when something in each other's lives went south. Through so many problems in the past, they had been there for one another, helping, protecting, and comforting. So it was hard not to feel responsible, or less of a friend because neither found a way to make the situation for the other better. Naturally, they wanted to wipe away each other's pain, even thousands of miles away and separated by time and space.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all of that alone," Clark said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Chloe glanced up from the glass of wine she had been holding throughout her elaborate tale. All around them crickets sang into the night, soft and peaceful. Clouds from the west began to drift in above them, merely translucent wisps of gray gliding over the stars and the moon. She remembered the weather report from the radio on her way here, and realized the heavy rain clouds would soon be on their way.

The calm before the storm, for sure.

She sipped her wine, and then finally insisted, "It's okay. I played Russian roulette with my life to win a Pulitzer, and rather than die in the flames of my own ambition, I threw my cousin on the sacrificial alter instead. I deserved the ticket to the Luthor witness protection program, if only so I was appropriately cast out of society for a year. It was my jail cell, and I built it with my own two hands."

Clark squeezed her right shoulder, his voice soft, reassuring as he spoke. "You didn't deserve it. Lois' death wasn't your fault. You two carried many of the same genes, and one of them was your insatiable curiosity. Lois would have run into that warehouse whether you were next to her or not."

"But it was my ass the mob was trying to hang, not hers," she countered softly, barely a whisper.

"What you did, though," he offered, circling the rim of his glass leisurely with his fingertips, "Investigating, writing the article, turning the mob boss in ... it's admirable what you did. You took something tragic and changed it into some good, something meaningful. Lois would've been proud of you."

Chloe turned away from him and glanced out into the night. She had heard every explanation, every attempt from her friends to help her rationalize her actions. In the end, no matter the words, nothing could erase the outcome of Lois' death. Maybe Chloe couldn't control her cousin's actions, and maybe the unfortunate sacrifice was actually a wonderful blessing to the rest of the world, as a mob front full of evil men were finally given justice. Certainly, had the mob boss been left in power, he would have killed many more people to achieve his own interests, and in the grand scheme of things the death of one reporter for the sake could be considered a forgiving, if not acceptable trade.

But Lois' death wasn't right for any reason, and Chloe would never accept her cousin's fate as a mere pawn in a much larger, unshakeable destiny. If she had the chance, Chloe would give the criminal the key to his freedom if it meant Lois would have the chance to live again.

With a large sigh, both from frustration and sleepiness, she decided to let the thoughts of the past slide away. To settle her nerves she laid her head back, and found Clark's arm still there, stretched along the back of the swing and cushioned close to her neck. Awkwardly, she suddenly remembered how easily she had fallen asleep in his arms in the past, on everything from old couches to living room floors. It was almost embarrassing for her, as she could never overcome the powerful warmth of his embrace. She felt lost in a plush pillow, or within the furry belly of a big teddy bear whenever she found herself lucky enough to be in his arms for a short while. So falling asleep in those same pair of warm, comfortable arms had always come easily to her.

If she wasn't careful, the current combination of the wine, his warmth, the soft night, her morbid thoughts, and the threatening rain promised it might just happen again.

Sensing her lingering sadness, Clark slid his body closer to her. When she didn't try to move away, he leaned in and placed his left hand over her left forearm to comfort her. Then after a long moment of comfortable silence, he slipped his hand down and entwined his fingers through hers. Clark smiled when he felt her muscles tense to this new gesture, one of tenderness and rebirth. Loving her again had been his hearts desire the moment he left her standing alone under the oak tree. She was always so easy to love, then and now. Why it took him so long to recognize her always astonished him.

"I guess it doesn't matter now," she finally added, closing her eyes.

Clark rubbed the pad of his thumb in a circular motion along the back of her hand. He considered pressing the validity of his point, but decided against it when he remembered how long it had been since Lois' death. Over the past three years, Chloe certainly has heard her share of sympathy. No doubt more than a handful of her friends had tried to lessen the impact of the tragedy on her life, and to no avail. There was no reason to believe his words would be of any difference to her, especially when she's had such a long time to build the wall circling her emotions. What she wanted now was not another friend telling her the pitfalls of personal punishment, but rather a friend to help her forget.

He's heard the story now. And there was no more reason to discuss it.

"You know, I haven't told you everything about my training," he suddenly replied, slicing through the silence with a tactful diversion.

Chloe, of course, took the bait happily.

"Oh yeah?" she chided, her sadness from before having drained a little from her eyes as she turned back to him. "Something more disturbing than drinking a glass full of egg yokes every morning?"

Clark smiled at her sarcasm. "No, nothing like that." He squeezed her hand gently; felt her soft palm pressed softly against his own. Thoughts of late nights, kissing her hands, her soft skin filtered into his mind like a treasured, long lost memory. Some of his best moments with Chloe had come then, hours before dawn while they rested leisurely in each other's arms. They had ventured into borrowed time, of course, because they never were supposed to have crossed the line to have sex at any time in their friendship. Yet he knew even Chloe would find it difficult denying how extraordinary the afterglow had been.

With a note of seriousness, Chloe suggested, "You don't have to leave again, do you?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Good," she said, sighing with relief. "I'd hate to have to chain you to your bed with kryptonite laced handcuffs."

"Is that an invitation?"

Chloe scoffed playfully, surprised at his tenacity, and then poked him in the ribs with her elbow. "Did Jor-El teach you how to find sexual innuendos, Mr. Kent?"

Clark laughed. "I'm sorry," he said, smiling. "I couldn't resist."

"Okay, well, aside from testing your limits with me, and suggesting your tendency for soft porno kink, you still haven't told me what you wanted to say."

He shrugged a little timidly, paused and glared out into the night. The amusement in their conversation had faded a bit, giving face to something more important, more serious. Chloe was worried for a moment when he didn't say anything, as if he still contemplated even telling her at all. Apparently, Clark's training had given him more than he had ever anticipated.

Then he said it.

"I have a new power."

It took Chloe another few seconds to comprehend the full meaning of his words. But after she sensed he was being completely serious, she smiled pleasantly; aware she wasn't at all surprised. With Clark Kent, nothing unusual surprised her anymore.

"Are you carrying a light saber now?" she mused, squeezing his hand.

Clark smirked, and then finally turned to face her. Gratefully, in her eyes he saw only understanding, grace, forgiveness and support. She loved him for who he was, no matter the changing definition. And it was why he found no difficulty in telling her the truth.

"I can fly."

Her smile grew. "Of course you can," she said lightly. "Because if you didn't, I would want a refund on my investment in my super hero."

Clark shook his head, smiled wide, and glanced to their clasped hands. "You always took my changes well," he whispered. He looked back up into her eyes. "I never had to worry about how you would handle me. I should have known my new power wouldn't scare you away."

"Clark, trust me, your _out of this world_ heritage trumps your unique changes every time," she reassured bluntly.

He shifted forward in the swing and turned around far enough to face her. He recoiled his arm from behind her head, only to place both of his hands over hers. Already he could feel her curiosity to his sudden movement, but he wanted to do this right. Since their last moment together, he had thought of what he might do if he ever saw her again. The ability to fly was only an added delight to his plans, and gave him the resource to make this night, this chance even more wondrous.

Taking a long breath, Clark finally revealed softly, "Now that you know ... I was wondering if you wanted to go for a ride?"

Chloe stilled. She had every reason in the world to say no to him. He had left her for another woman; her nemesis as it was when it concerned the battle for his deepest affections. He had walked away from her, left her alone and confused under an oak tree after a fateful, deep, love driven kiss that wasn't enough to keep him in her life. And he had stayed away for five full years, giving her no measurable hope for his return.

Yet she wanted nothing more than to give in.

Clark stood when she failed to acknowledge him. He let her hand drop from his grasp and walked over to the top of the porch steps. Looking up into the sky above, he saw gray storm clouds beginning to form. By his estimate, they had less than a half hour of flight time if they decided to do this before the weather grounded them. And from the promise of his dreams, the half hour was all he needed.

Turning back to her, he stood tall, confident, and handsome in the light streaming through the backdoor from the kitchen. With a warm smile, he extended an open hand to her.

"I promise, I won't drop you."

_And it was all she needed to hear. _

Chloe stood, walked over to him, and took his hand. Without another word, with eyes caught in a loving stare, Clark picked her up in his arms, as a groom would carry his bride over the threshold. She circled her arms around his neck. He tightened his hold on her and pulled her close against him.

With a gentle push, suddenly the porch below their feet was gone.

All that encircled them now was the fading signs of a beautiful, summer night sky.

00000000000000

**_tbc_**


	21. Chapter 18

**_A few minutes later …_**

_And it's been awhile  
Since I could hold my head up high  
And it's been awhile  
Since I first saw you_

Chloe had never known herself to be afraid of heights. Of course, that was before she had the chance to fly high over landscape and city lights with only Clark's arms keeping her in the air. Over all, the experience of flying through the warm, night sky was a pleasant one, as Clark took her over hills through Smallville she had only seen from the ground before now. She enjoyed the feeling of the wind brushing her face, loved the elegant and up-close view of the stars above their heads. No ride in any airplane had ever given her such an intimate touch with nature, with the earth and sky as flying with Clark, going at his speed and pace.

Yet despite her previous experience in those man-made airplanes, she couldn't help herself from clutching at Clark with all of her might. Taking a ticket in Clark's personal form of transportation, both by ground and sky, was safer than any airplane or car.

But her instincts had a difficulty believing it.

"You really don't have to hold on so tight," Clark whispered into her ear, as if he could read her thoughts.

Chloe tried to lessen her bear hug around his neck, but could only manage a slight reduction in the pressure. And anyway, did it really matter how hard she was hanging on?

"The last time I checked your super hero instruction manual, one of your powers was impenetrability. I hardly think my grip around your neck is denting your steel exterior," she spat defensively.

Clark laughed lightly as he swooped them a little higher in the sky. Stars surrounded them like fireflies, each one less or more brighter than the other. He took his time as he flew them away from Smallville, allowing her the chance to see his newest vantage point. She would become accustomed to the heights eventually, just as he had to when he first learned of his new power. Lord knew he planned on taking her up into the sky more often, after tonight.

"You can relax," he insisted gently, pulling her closer. He gazed away from the sky ahead of them to look at her. "I've been flying for awhile now. And my strength hasn't dwindled at all since the last time we saw each other. I can still hold you in my arms with barely any effort."

The tension in her muscles eased off some because of his words, though not all of it. Dangling from a high perch, no matter how tightly bound to her safety net, was always going to make her heart race.

"An arrogant pilot is a good pilot, I hear," she chided, smiling softly into his eyes.

"I always thought you enjoyed flying."

"I do," she insisted. "I love flying in the arms of my hero just as much as the next damsel. But I guess I haven't quite come to terms with the 'falling to my death' risk of the whole experience."

After a moment, he breathed softly against her neck, "I can fix that."

Before Chloe could ask him what he meant, he suddenly released her from the safety of his arms. Ignoring her insistent protests as he repositioned her, he guided her small form to fly next to him, stretched along his right side and parallel to the ground. He only held onto her hand as they flew ahead, but kept her body merely a breath away from his own to quiet her fears. He could hear her heart racing wildly because of this new, seemingly unstable formation, though not nearly for the same reasons as when they began. Regardless of his close proximity, the sensation of flying with hardly any support at all was not lost on her. Chloe's eyes were wide in awe; amazed by the feeling of utter weightlessness, by the freedom Clark could give her with just a touch of his hand, with just an ounce of his overabundant strength.

Clark smiled when her grip on his hand loosened a little. He knew she would love this new power once she let go ... once she trusted him again. Her fears were dwindling more and more every second they soared through the sky, over the world below. By the delight he saw in her eyes, by the way she stared endlessly at the beautiful Kansas landscape they flew over, he knew she was finally hooked.

Above all, she was growing into him again, into the feeling of being with him and near him. He wanted her to remember what it felt like when their souls touched, when nothing else in the world mattered except for them.

"It's not so bad, is it?" he asked, his voice fighting the wind gently whistling by them.

Chloe giggled. She was slightly ashamed for having ever doubted Clark's abilities. Of course he was going to catch her if she fell. She had no reason to believe otherwise. Moreover, his new power was no different from any of his others - all came with risk, a risk he had sufficiently overcome with practice. He never would have taken her up if he had not been sure of himself, and of his ability to control his new powers.

From this new angle, she could see everything below them incredibly well. They passed small patches of forest, houses alight with nightly activity, and rundown buildings on the outskirts of Smallville she remembered sneaking into when she was only a teenager. Clark and Pete often came with her on those rebellious occasions, and she couldn't count the number of hours they spent playing hide and seek on properties that were not their own. She also noticed the outline of the Luthor mansion, almost entirely forgotten save for a few guards and personal aides that used the house per Mr. Luthor's permission. He had long ago moved to the city for good, leaving the mansion mostly vacant.

Up ahead a little further, she began to see the lights of the city she knew all too well.

"Metropolis," she whispered curiously, turning to him. "You know I've been there," she remarked dryly.

Clark smirked. "You haven't been where I'm taking you."

They both remained pleasantly silent as they flew closer to Metropolis. The vast flat lands of Kansas began to disappear under the shadow of the city, soon diminishing completely into outskirt suburbia Chloe had visited all too often. In her work at the Planet, she had investigated more than a handful of murders, robberies, and even domestic abuse. Disturbingly, many of her investigations led to these little neighborhoods overflowing with the middle and upper class. Though the city certainly housed more than it's fair share of crime, the suburbs had never been an exception.

Rather than concentrate on the content in each group of houses and lights, she decided to observe only the aesthetic beauty inherent in such beautiful homes and residents. In the night sky, with only illumination from streetlights and houses, the neighborhoods almost looked romantic, exceptional in their modern taste. Regardless of the dangerous secrets in these residential outcroppings, they were still the best place to live in the city's vicinity. Against her better judgment, she began to imagine herself living in one of those homes, with children running around in the yard and a husband kissing her neck while she cooked dinner.

Chloe gazed to Clark, happy to see his attention drawn to their journey. It gave her the uninhibited chance to imagine him as she once did, as the man she longed to have in her life. She tried not to indulge in the fantasies, but flying next to him, holding onto him so tightly, she struggled to imagine much else. He had come back into her life so suddenly, conjuring up her feelings for him in his wake. No matter how often she tried to believe otherwise, she had made little effort to move on without him. The very course of her own life, living in an apartment alone with only her job to keep her company, testified to that.

Even so ... loving him again, allowing herself to love him again ... was a dangerous game. Too often did he burn her, and too often did she come back to him like a helpless puppy. It took her months to get over his betrayal with Lana, her heart fully scathed by the hollow promises he had made to her and those she was ignorant enough to believe. And still, a year after she caught him making out with Lana on his couch, she tried to relight their passion while taking shelter with him underneath an old oak tree. The knowledge of his forthcoming departure didn't matter to her, nor did the presence of another man in her life. She knew he had to go back to his biological father, and she knew she had no right to ask to him to stay ... and she knew the world needed him to fulfill his destiny.

_... but she hoped, prayed their love for each other would be enough, despite how long they neglected it. _

_She hoped their love would be enough to give her hope, to give her his heart, if not in body, then in spirit._

Yet in the end, once again she was left standing alone with no framework to lean their love on. Through the years he was gone, the love between them began to diminish, turn into a memory, a legend. She started to question whether it was real at all, and over time she found reason to categorize it merely as an infatuation between good friends taken far past the line.

Only at night, with the lights off, during thunderstorms and sitting alone in a Grecian cabin, did she believe the seven days of their short love affair was something extraordinary, longing for them to return. These moments of weakness were often short lived, and vanished once the sun broke through the foggy clouds of a Metropolis morning. The pain of loving Clark Kent was never too far-gone from her heart. The clarity she gained from her pain made it impossible for her to forget how futile her affair with Clark had become. It always ended badly when they tried to alter the state of their friendship, and almost always she was the one left trying to pick up the pieces. Declaring Clark Kent as bad boyfriend/lover material was easy, especially when his love for another woman was so prominent in his mind.

However, at the moment, the clarity she had earned in their five years apart began to falter. Flying next to him, their bodies so close, she felt flush as old feelings driven by wild, erotic passion came flooding back. If nothing else, she could hardly deny how good the sex had been with him.

Metropolis engulfed them completely now. Chloe looked down upon the city, captured by its radiant glow in the dark night. Streets were still bustling with activity, just as busy as when she left here this afternoon. But more than that, seeing the skyline forced her to appreciate the natural beauty inherent in the infrastructure of the city itself. Though crime infested, smoggy, and loud, from thousands of feet in the air the city actually looked incredible. Skyscrapers perforated a magical presence, sounds of the city invaded her ears like a pleasant midnight song, and the beauty she had never noticed before had suddenly dissolved the ugliness of her home. It was no wonder why Clark wanted to take her through here, to show her the charm she was too blinded by evil to see.

After more than a minute of flying over the city, Chloe finally began to feel them slow, descend. Clark pulled her tightly against him as they drew closer to the skyscrapers. She tried to guess where he was taking her, figuring a bench in the park so they could talk, or possibly a cafe somewhere on the east side where only the best coffee shop poets and vocalists could be found. Much to her surprise, however, he shifted them vertically and landed them feet first on a skyscraper rooftop.

She looked down around them as they landed softly, gently on the hard surface, with the rest of the Metropolis lights circling them like a ring of fire. Even without his explanation, Chloe could tell immediately why he had chosen this spot above the rest. Not only did this spot give them the best views of the city, but she also realized, with a quick inspection of their surroundings, that they were indeed on the tallest building in Metropolis.

Even taller than LuthorCorp.

"It's beautiful," she declared softly, surprised.

She slipped out of his arms and walked to the edge, where a four-foot tall steel fence kept her from falling off the edge. The building they were standing on supplied office space to numerous businesses, and it was owned by a man named Lawrence Wellington, one of a handful of millionaires located in the area. She recounted many of the numerous instances she had stepped into the lobby of this building, having no idea such a beautiful, exuberant view was only stories above her.

_And it's been awhile  
Since I could stand on my own two feet again  
And it's been awhile  
Since I could call you_

But while she was staring out onto the city, Clark was only staring at her. "Yes," he agreed, smiling sheepishly, "it is."

"With the stack of crime files on my desk, it's hard to remember evil really is the other end of a spectrum."

Clark walked up beside her. "After I came home, I spent a lot of time up here, thinking about my responsibility to this area, to the world. I fell in love with Metropolis because of this view. I knew then there was something here to fight for, even if it was sometimes difficult to see."

Chloe noticed slight enchantment in his words, causing her to smile. Clark was always able to follow the strain of good in everything and everyone who entered his life. Frankly, in the last few years she struggled to see her home as anything but a magnet for criminals. Too many investigations within the Metropolis Police Department helped her see the corruption imbedded into every facet of the government here. Trying to clean up the streets of this city was a formidable task, especially with so much bureaucracy standing in the way. She had heard enough stories from older citizens, as well as through her own research, pertaining to long gone, glory days of the city. When _Daily Planet_ newspapers could be found on every corner, reporting news, making a difference. When heroism could be found in brave gumshoes and intrepid reporters, both trying to make their home a better place to live.

Gazing over at Clark as he stood next to her, she realized if anyone could make this city glorious again, it would be him. The younger years she spent with him gave her an extraordinary glimpse of his capabilities, and she could only imagine how strong his talents had become because of his training. Enough miraculous rescues were sure to eventually lift the citizens' spirits.

Naturally, from her perspective as his friend, the thought of him staying in town for a while comforted her. She had her personal super hero back, even if she had to share him with everyone else.

Sighing softly, she placed her hands on the fence railing. "You've changed so much, Clark."

Clark drew closer to her, curious. "How so?"

"Just everything, really. Your new, pro-destiny attitude, your five year attendance to Krypton's best work-out program, your Shakespearian view of an otherwise corrupted city," she listed carefully, eyes drawn to the skyscrapers ahead of them. "I wish everyone could take a drink from your river of optimism."

He didn't say anything for a while. He knew she was right. The kid who left Smallville five years ago felt like a stranger to him, a version of himself he could only revisit in old photographs on a gloomy day. Actually, he sensed he didn't want to revisit that version of himself anytime soon. He wasn't sure if he liked the man he had become quite yet, but it was certainly a step up from where he began, from who he once was. He didn't need an old friend to tell him how full of himself he had been when he was a teenager. Certainly he had his good days back then, especially when he helped save people's lives.

But the regrets ... well, those were too many to count.

Clark pursed his lips, then moved forward and grasped the railing tightly with both hands.

Smiling sweetly, he replied, "You're different, too, you know. I thought it was just the hair, but I finally realize it's only part of it. You've done so much, accomplished so much. I see so much life behind your eyes now, tragedy and triumph. You're all grown up - a successful woman rather than that innocent girl I remember in high school. And I can tell your experiences, both good and bad, have blessed you."

Chloe felt her cheeks flush a little. She knew he meant well with his words of praise, yet she heard something familiar in his voice, something that shouldn't have been there during a friendly exchange of conversation. Nevertheless, the pulse of the familiar signaled her core like nothing else, bringing to the forefront even more of those _erotic feelings _she had been trying to ignore.

_His closeness, his careless breath across her shoulder, his intoxicating smell ..._

She finally closed her eyes and bit down on her bottom lip to help draw her attention away from him. He was always so hard to ignore, no matter how long she tried to think of others, pretend he didn't exist. Even when she was alone in that Grecian cabin, with only her thoughts of him to keep her company, her attempts to will him from her mind completely had always been unsuccessful. Just as she suspected during their short love affair, Clark Kent would never be too far from her heart.

Her words from the past began to trickle back into her thoughts ...

_We made love, and it's a connection not so easily forgotten_.

"I never told you this," he began softly, his voice giving no indication that he had any idea of the war raging inside of her. Nevertheless, he didn't help her forget any less. "But I thought about you a lot while I was away."

Chloe sighed deeply. She couldn't hear this now ... no, not now. She wasn't ready.

"Really?" she asked, trepidation drumming rhythmically inside her chest.

"You don't have to say the same thing," he replied leisurely, as if sensing she might not be feeling the same things. He shrugged sheepishly. "I know our past was often a mess, especially in the last year. But, you know, I always thought we were good friends. And I missed your friendship, I missed talking to you." He smiled and shook his head. "I missed your sarcasm the most."

She turned to look at him, her heart racing. No, this was definitely not what she needed to hear. "I never thought I would see you again," she answered briskly, much sharper and colder than she intended.

"I know," he conceded, slightly ashamed.

Deciding to live without him, without hope she would ever see again, had been a difficult decision for her to make. One he forced her to make due to his unexpected exit. Considering their track record, she knew she should have expected him to burn her during their moment underneath the oak tree, regardless of passionate kisses. He had told her point blank how much he had enjoyed their time together, then in the next breath he made it perfectly clear that his destiny was more important than anything, or anyone else in his life. More than that, he had insisted she not look for him, because he had no intention of returning home.

At that time, home and her love had sounded one in the same. And looking back, she loathed her gullibility. She had practically fallen in love with him again while underneath that _dreaded oak tree_; between their unforgettable kiss and the moment he said he loved her. Then a year removed from his incident with Lana, she had almost believed him. She had almost given in, had almost trusted him again ... until he kissed her on the cheek, and whispered in her ear that she should forget him.

Was this time really any different? Could she give in again, only to be burned for the hundredth time?

He traced his left hand along the railing, and drew his touch closer to her arm. Eyes to the ground, he then added quietly, "But everything is different now. You're different, I'm different ... "

Chloe glanced to him as he trailed off. "And?" she pressed insistently.

_And it's been awhile  
Since I've gone and fucked things up just like I always do  
And it's been awhile  
But all that shit seems to disappear when I'm with you_

Clark shifted closer to her, forcing her to turn around and face him directly. He lifted a hand to her cheek, and then caressed it gently when she didn't try to pull away from his touch. Already he could feel her heart beating rapidly, drawing extra energy for it's erratic rhythm from the electricity his presence was generating inside of her. No doubt the desire, the need he had been feeling seen their reunion was mutual. He was sure of that now. She ignored him and the sensations between them the entire evening, but the glossiness in her eyes as he cupped her cheek, now with both hands, gave him encouragement to continue.

Because now he knew ... she wanted this, too.

Pulling her gently towards him, he finally responded, his voice a whisper, "And maybe I didn't come back just to save the world."

He didn't give her a chance to refute him, or to fight him, before he made his point clear. Chloe felt herself shudder when he leaned into her, and felt her skin tingle the moment he pressed his lips against hers. It had been so long, five years to be exact, since they had done this. Her surprise at his boldness immobilized her muscles, told her this was wrong, this was a disaster in the making. But the longer he kissed her, the longer his warmth drew her out of the cold, lonely waters of her soul, the more overwhelming their passion became. It consumed her ... the drive, the need for him ... and suddenly only her fears were immobilized.

The leisurely acceptance of his lips wasn't enough now. Her body came alive, moved with him, fell into the motion of a routine she knew all too well. She started to kiss him in return with the same tenderness, softness laced delicately in his lips. Her arms circled his waist loosely, lazily, drawing him in. Blushing deeply, Chloe realized her breasts were brushing up against his chest, causing an intense flair of pleasure to rush through her. Despite the clothing preventing skin-to-skin contact, her nipples were hard and erect because of the intimate touch, waiting and anticipating the lovemaking sure to come.

His thumbs circled her cheekbones, just as softly and tenderly as the kiss itself. She leaned into him a little more, felt his tongue dart across her lips ...

_Felt the world fall away ..._

_Felt her heart jump, felt the blood thunder through her ears ... _

_Felt her skin flush, felt her lips and tongue turn to fire... _

_Felt the moment skating, slipping away from the cusp of control ..._

Then he drifted from her kiss slowly, caressed her face once more, and slipped out of her arms completely.

Chloe blinked with confusion before she looked over to him curiously, surprised he had stopped them. Surprised even further with her actions. She could hardly believe she let the kiss happen. Worse yet, he suddenly looked way over-dressed, and their current location felt all- wrong for what she wanted to do to him.

_Of course, we could make it work if we wanted to ... we've had sex in worse places ..._

But with the desire came a warning. Here she was again, about to give in to the very man who made her life miserable for so long: the very man who couldn't decide between two women, or his destiny. The same man she often considered throwing into a lake of green lava just to make herself feel better. There was no difficulty in recalling the reasons why she should back away and ask him to take her home. The failure of their past love affair acted like a cloud in her mind, successfully fogging her desire, dampening her spirit to continue on this path that would find her recklessly falling back into his bed. Then from his bed, she was sure she would find herself lying in the curb, the place he would quickly throw her when he was finished using her.

No ... all of this was happening too soon, and if she wanted to save any face here, she needed to end this now.

"Clark," she said weakly, shaking her head. She stepped away from him further. "We ... I don't think ..."

However, Clark had heard these pleas before. He smiled, closed the distance between them before she could finish, and placed his forefinger gently against her lips to quiet her. Then when he was sure she wouldn't say anything further, he scooped her up in his arms once more. After she wrapped her arms around his neck for balance, he leaned in and rubbed his nose affectionately against hers. She seemed hesitant and uncertain if she should let him take the lead, as her response to him was minimal, fearful and apprehensive.

But the war he was sensing inside of her must have come to an end by the time he lifted off the rooftop, into the sky. Because suddenly she nuzzled him in return, and let her body melt into his own. Her right hand caressed the side of his neck, held him in place as they exchanged touch, then a gentle kiss. He could feel her losing her will, relinquishing the barrier on her heart to the power, to the passion of the love neither could ever deny.

Clark knew where he wanted to go. He made their journey a short one; talking little time to speed across the sky, back to Smallville. Chloe buried her head in his neck when he sped up, then snuck a kiss to his shoulder while she clutched him tightly. He smiled wide, because he was certain now she understood what he wanted. He dreamt of her constantly throughout his training, and he would be the first to admit she rarely had clothes on during his fantasies. He knew he never should have let her go, or given her the chance to love another man. Point was, _he_ wanted to be the only man in her life. It sickened him every time she snuggled up with someone else, and the only reason he didn't say anything was because he believed she didn't want him.

Only under the oak tree did he realize how wrong he had been. Unfortunately, at the time his main concern was to spare her any additional heartache, as he had no idea how long he was going to be gone. The last thing he ever wanted was to make her wait for him, especially when she could be just as happy with someone else. His needs and desires were of no concern, and even though he sensed she loved him just as much as he loved her, there was no guarantee. He was certain time would change how they felt.

But surprising to both, the six years apart from one another, the six years spent wondering if their passion was real, only increased the desire between them. If anything, their love had been empowered by the pain of being apart for so long. Now they wanted each other more than ever, and Clark could hardly fathom the explosion at the end of the long, excruciating fuse.

Finally the outline of the farmhouse came into view. Clark slowed his momentum enough to help them land safely and softly on the porch steps, letting Chloe drop from his arms, and onto her feet once they were secure on the ground. The rain clouds were now covering Smallville in an intense, threatening darkness. He didn't pay much attention to the rain, however, or to the howling winds circling them like a mini tornado. Nor did he have the time to reflect on how much had changed since their evening began only a little while ago.

All he cared for now was Chloe, and the way she urgently tugged him in for a heart-pounding, passionate kiss.

Very little made him dizzy, but Chloe's kisses were one. He hardly had a chance to gain his composure before he felt them moving towards the screen door. Clark pushed her up against it a little roughly when they finally reached it, and he smiled when he heard her moan against him.

She was loving this. They never failed to turn their lovemaking into a chaotic, uncontrollable flight of needy desire. Almost all of their physical intimacy in the past had happened under the same circumstances, with the same flavor of hastiness threading through them. He could never characterize the sex well, but always found the words _"I want you right here, right now,"_ bouncing around in his head whenever he thought of it.

Somehow he managed to open the screen door behind them, and they slipped inside, arms and bodies still entangled while they exchanged desperate, sequential kisses. Chloe's hands were everywhere, on his sides, back, and chest. He hummed in delight when their kisses deepened considerably, each exploring the other with renewed, hungry fervor. Little by little they moved backwards as they searched quickly for the perfect spot. She was already preparing their way by unbuttoning his collar, then his shirt; her touch warm and electric against his skin.

Her lips dropped to his neck, his shoulder, and he sucked in a breath when she flattened her palms on his bare chest. Clark could hardly think straight now, her touch and their moment consuming him. When Chloe grunted quietly into his shoulder, only then did he realize their backward movement had landed them against a kitchen counter, stopping their advances to the living room, to the stairs ... to whatever spot would be more comfortable.

_Not that we couldn't christen the kitchen if we really wanted to_, Clark mused.

Clark had Chloe's backside pressed up against the kitchen counter, and the latter thought was almost exactly what he wanted to do. The two of them had made other, usually uncomfortable spots _comfortable_ because of their insatiable need for sex. Making love to her with her beautiful body strewn across a cold counter top, or even a tile floor, sounded wonderfully exotic right now. They were known for turning stock rooms, living room floors, and couches into the most comfortable places on the planet.

No further had he thought of it, did his hands, a second later, answer his fantasy. His right hand was up inside her blouse, and the other was at the small of her back, pressing her into him urgently. He kissed her lips, her chin, then eased down along her neck. He worried and nibbled her throat relentlessly, making her squirm and sigh against him. She circled her arms back around his neck to help keep her on her feet while he teased her, her fingernails desperately scrapping his shoulders. Clark smiled into her skin, and then smiled wider when his hand finally found and squeezed the bottom swell of her left breast. She hissed into his ear, then countered his aggressiveness with a little of her own by gently slipping his dress shirt off of his shoulders.

_And it's been awhile  
Since I've seen the way the candles light your face  
And it's been awhile  
But I can still remember just the way you taste_

Clark shuddered a little more when her lips found his collarbone, and her fingertips glided down his arm. Every nerve in his body began to scream with pleasure, reminded of how beautiful their lovemaking had always been. She must have read his mind, because she slowed their passion a little with a flare of tenderness. She grazed his ear seductively with her lips, kissed his jaw line, and then slid the tip of her tongue through his stubble. Her right hand slipped down around his neck, gripped him their urgently, and threaded her fingers through the hair at the nape.

One minute longer and he would be gone, lost to her love.

Drizzling rain covered the windows now. Lightning flashed through the sky.

Thunder bellowed, low and moaning.

Chloe drew her tongue across his mouth, engaged him in a deep kiss, her lips warm, wet and intoxicating. Her hands came back to life, drifting easily along his shoulders and chest. Down to his stomach. Close to the clasp of his shorts.

His blue shirt suddenly slipped down his back, leaving his upper torso now exposed. Only his arms around Chloe prevented his shirt from falling from him completely. Distantly he wished for a mirror so he could see how sexy they looked together. Clark softly gripped her breast in his hand, and the nipple slowly hardened against his palm the longer he massaged it. She broke the kiss and let her head fall back, overwhelmed with pleasure, whimpers escaping her mouth the more he rubbed, the further he lingered his lips down her throat.

Lighting again, brighter, more electric.

The past came with it, flashing through his mind.

Thunder. Louder this time.

_And then ... _

_Then he remembered ..._

With a jolt, Clark backed up and pulled himself away from Chloe's arms. Put distance between them, enough to make her expression fall. She was out of breath, something he didn't realize until now. He, too, was trying to suck extra oxygen into his lungs, his heart racing harder than ever. Through the darkness, through the flashes of lightning and thunder, and over the beat of their own desire, their eyes met. Something here had gone amiss.

_And It's been awhile  
Since I could hold my head up high  
And it's been awhile  
Since I said I'm sorry_

Chloe looked curious, frustrated, and a little taken by his retreat. But Clark felt something quite different ... _a desire to know the truth_.

Surprisingly, however, she broke their silence first.

"Clark ...," she pleaded, breathless. "What's going on? Why did you ... ?"

Clark slipped his shirt back over his shoulders, but left it unbuttoned. Staring at her hard, he ran a hand over the small beard on his chin. He debated whether he should say anything at all. But his own curiosity could not be abated simply by a night in the sack with his greatest lover. No, he needed something a bit more concrete.

He needed an explanation.

"I can't keep going on with this until I know," he said finally, his voice soft.

Chloe stepped closer to him. "What? Know what?"

She looked beautiful, her body cast in the shimmering light from the moon through the rain soaked windows. Her brunette hair was mussed; her blouse was still riding up slightly, exposing the smoothness of her stomach. And he hated to even mention this now, to break the spell.

Regardless of his feelings, however, he knew he had to.

Taking a deep breath, he finally asked her. He finally sought the truth.

"Why didn't you come to me that night?"

000000000000000000

**_tbc_**


	22. Chapter 19

_And I can't be the stranger  
That's been sleeping in your bed just  
Turn around and come to me  
I feel all the pain inside  
And everything you been denied you feel  
It's all you feel_

You've been hiding in the shadows  
Have you forgotten how we used to dream  
Let me remind you  
The light doesn't blind you at all  
It helps you see  
Can you see

Yeah you have become  
Yeah you have become beautiful

_- Goo Goo Dolls, "Become"_

000000000000000000000000000000000000

**_Same moment, same time …_**

Chloe looked to him, her cheeks a flushed, angry red. "What?" she asked, shocked by his nerve. She knew the night he was referring to, though she could hardly believe he was placing blame of their ill-fated affair on her. "What did you say?"

Clark closed the distance between them by another inch.

"I waited for you, Chlo," he replied, suppressing the urgency to raise his voice. "After you called, I made dinner. I made a fire. I set candles around the room. I made sure we had our blanket, the same one we used when we first made love on my couch. And I waited for you. All night, I sat up and waited for you. And you never came."

"You waited for me?" she repeated coldly, slightly exasperated now. She couldn't hide her anger anymore, her eyes streaming with pain. "Clark," she snapped harshly. "Clark, don't you remember? I saw you."

"Saw me?"

She sighed irritably. Why did he want to bring this up now?

"Yes. I saw you ... with_ her_," she insisted in a whisper, crossing her arms, clearly upset.

He stilled, and his eyes grew wide. "What?"

"You and Lana. I saw you two on your living room couch, tongue locked tighter than a boy scout's knot," she explained, averting her gaze. The humiliation always came, every time she remembered the moment she caught them. Even now, she could hardly look at his face. "I know you were missing in action for five long years, training as an Intergalactic Gladiator, under the tutelage from a former, powerful, Kryptonian elite. But you can hardly expect me to believe your time away cryogenically froze all the brain cells linked to your inexcusable disregard for my feelings during our ... " she snapped, stopping only to think of the best way to categorize their affair, " ... _our fling_."

Disbelief drained into his face. He backed up from her because of his surprise, his shock. Then he turned away, unwilling to give her a view of his shame. He closed his eyes, placed hand over his mouth, and walked closer to the sink so he could balance his weakened stance. Suddenly everything made perfect, disturbing sense. He tried calling her for days after she didn't show up that night. Less than a week later, he heard she had already left to see her father, leaving him behind with no word and with no explanation as to her sudden departure.

Because of how she left, he was certain she didn't want anything to do with him. Though he didn't know why, having no idea of the anger raging inside of her heart. After he saved the world from Zod and the summer ended, he watched from afar as she started a new relationship with another man. She spoke nothing of what had happened between them merely months before. Instead of a lover's kiss when he returned safely and re-entered her life, she gave him only the usual concern from a friend and nothing more. In light of this, certain she had moved on from him and for reasons he didn't understand, he moved on just the same. His eyes drifted from Chloe back to Lana, and he let himself obsess over her marriage to Lex. He let himself remember how much he had loved her, and how much he needed Lana in his life.

All the while, a deeper section of his heart was breaking. Because on the other side of his life stood Chloe, separated from him, happy and content with someone else. The same Chloe he would risk life and limb to save, to protect.

The same Chloe he wanted to give all of himself to.

Lana married Lex, of course, to save him from the very man she was marrying. He discovered that later, a few days before he left for his training. However, good intentions or not, her deception and lies finally convinced him - she was not the woman he had waited his entire life to love.

_Only under that damn oak tree_, he said to himself, _did I realize the identity of the woman of my dreams, the woman I let go. And by then it was too late. I was leaving, she was still moving on with, and loving a man that wasn't me._

The only plausible thing to do was to go away, with no regrets. Tell her he had loved her with all his heart, and then give her his blessing.

_But my instincts ... why didn't I listen to them? I felt it in her kiss ... I sensed it in her touch, in her eyes ... _

_Nothing in either of our lives had ever compared to what we had shared in only a week's worth of time. In only a week's worth of love._

After a moment, he placed his hands on his head. When he had regained his composure, he turned around far enough to finally glance to her over his shoulder.

Chloe saw tears glistening his cheeks. And it was something, an emotion she never expected to see.

"Oh, God, I didn't know," he insisted, shaking his head. He walked back over to her. "I swear to you, I didn't know you were there. Lana, she did come that night. I wanted her to leave, but she wasn't picking up on my hints. She made herself at home. Sat on the couch. Started talking about our break-up, and how often she thought about us re-igniting our relationship."

"You certainly didn't disappoint her, did you?"

Clark placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to quiet her sarcasm. Trying to make her understand. "It wasn't like that."

Chloe huffed, and walked away from his grasp. "Then what was it like? Was there something more after the foreplay? Did I miss the angels in heaven singing your praise because you two having sex finally helped the planets realign?"

"Chloe, please," he begged. "Please, listen to me."

She glided over to the kitchen counter, and placed her hand atop its smooth, cool surface. More lightning outside, flashing through the sky. Thunder quickly followed. The storm, she realized, was drawing closer.

"Do you want to know what I did that night? Hmm?" she asked, glancing to him, not giving him a chance to speak.

Now it was her turn to be heard.

"After I spoke with you on the phone, I went to my apartment. I packed a small bag, with only the few items I was going to need. Then I drove. I drove three hours, and I didn't stop for water, or food, or the chance to hook-up with an old boyfriend on the side of the road. I drove straight through, because all I wanted was you. I wanted you to hold me in your arms that night. I wanted you to make love to me, because you were the only thing in my life I thought I could depend on. I wanted you to drive it all away ... the pain, the suffering, the loneliness."

Clark bowed his head, closed his eyes.

She turned away from him, and crossed her arms once more.

"I was ready, Clark. I wanted you ... I wanted _all _of you," she said to him, her back to him completely now. "And I had no desire to share you with anyone else. I thought you were mine, finally after all this time. And I couldn't wait to lose myself in you. But when I saw you ... ".

She stopped suddenly, pursing her lips. The tears rolled down her cheeks now. Her will broken, unable to stop them.

"When I saw you with her, I didn't know what to do. Everything inside of me shattered. Every word you said to me, every promise you made to me. And I couldn't believe I had let you drag me into your soap opera again."

He opened his eyes, saw her, and felt her so far away. When the essence of her words had dissipated, he joined her at the counter, stood behind her. He returned his hand to her shoulder, and then stepped into her, allowing his chest to glide close to her back. When she didn't ask him to leave her alone, he continued his plea for her forgiveness.

She needed to see the truth, and now it was his turn to tell it.

"I know I hurt you," he said, his lips close to her ear. "But hear me. Yes, I kissed Lana," he admitted softly. "But she kissed me. She came onto me. I know I didn't push her away like I should have, but I needed to know."

Chloe felt her heart beat a little faster, uncertain if she wanted to know anymore. But she couldn't help herself. The curiosity was too great. "Needed to know what?"

Slowly he circled his arms around her from behind, embracing her warmly. She didn't hesitate to lean back into him, to let their bodies melt into one. Gratefully, by her actions alone, he could tell she was giving him the chance to explain. And this time, he wasn't going to blow it. He wasn't going to let her go.

He sighed deeply. Then he went on, his breath a whisper of love against her throat.

"I kissed her because I knew there was a part of me that was still in love with her. And I needed to know if what I had with her still existed, and was still worth fighting for. Otherwise, _our_ relationship wouldn't have been fair to you," he said. He slid his hand along her waist, gently, soothingly. "I was into the moment with her, I admit that. And it was probably the reason why I didn't hear you. My mind was focused on Lana, not on anything else."

Chloe rolled her eyes, her past repulsion for Lana suddenly rushing through her like a raging river. "Why doesn't that surprise me? Lana has stood at the top of your love meter since you met her."

Clark slipped his hand up underneath her blouse, just like he did before when they were caught in the middle of their passion. But this time, he simply flattened his palm across her stomach, letting her feel him. He nuzzled her neck, buried a kiss into her shoulder.

Then with his lips against her cheek, he whispered tenderly, "Not now, not anymore. When you and I made love for the first time on my couch in the loft, I was hooked. I was addicted to you. It's the reason why I pursued you so insistently that week."

Chloe remained still, quiet against him. Clark knew she didn't believe him. So he continued on.

"After I kissed Lana, I told her to go home. Because I knew the second it ended, that she was no longer the one I wanted. Because the second it ended, all I could think of was you. And how I couldn't wait for you to get there that night."

Running his hand on her smooth stomach, over her belly button, he pressed his feelings into her further. He whispered them into her ear, into her heart.

"Don't you see?" he asked, grazing her neck with a kiss. He lifted his hand from her stomach to her cheek, cupped it gently. Then he urged her to turn and face him, their eyes, lips only millimeters apart. "I chose _you_ that night. I've wanted you all this time. And I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner."

"Clark," she breathed, "The following year, you and Lana ...?"

He quieted her with a soft kiss. "I chased Lana only because you were with someone else. I didn't know that what you saw that night was keeping you from me. Had I known, I would've told you this a long time ago. I would've made you run away with me instead."

Chloe ran her hands over his arms. He was so strong, so hard against her. So easy to fall in love with again. Despite herself, she knew that was exactly what was happening to her. He was saying the words, making the promises. But could she believe him this time? Could her heart survive another let down, if she was wrong?

Clark circled his thumb across her cheek, brought her thoughts back to the moment.

"I love you, Chloe," he said. He kissed her again, softly.

She closed her eyes, leaned in closer, his name a whisper on her lips.

Fingertips tickling her skin, thumb gliding across her lips, he added his simple plea. Three words, six years in the making.

"Stay with me."

Chloe turned around in his arms. Without another word, she pushed his shirt off his shoulders, circled his neck with her arms, and answered him with a loving, tender kiss.

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_tbc_


	23. Chapter 20a

**A/N:** Thank you everyone for your patience. I know I've taken a long time to come back to this story. Unfortunately, because I have been so dissappointed with Smallville as a series, it has been difficult for me to write and feel inspired. I no longer watch Smallville or care for it, for various reasons, but I really love writing Clark and Chloe. And I love to write them. So I made myself sit down and try to write.

The end to this story is close. I hope I can finish it before the inspiration bug decides to leave me. :-)

And FYI, this section is definitely M rated. You have been warned. :-)

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Clark closed his eyes and parted his lips, giving her his unconditional surrender. He tried to remember the last time they made love, just as her tongue slipped into his mouth. It felt like ages ago since they had spent the night together on Chloe's living room carpet. In the next six years between then and now, there was no question he had spent thousands of hours thinking of her. Often he had wondered if things could've been different, or if the changes that had taken place in both of their lives since their separation would make it impossible for any meaningful reunion. But mostly, he had thought of her eyes, the taste of her skin, and the way they spoke with one another as if their souls had known each other for centuries. She was always so easy to love.

Currently, her warmth and pleasure reminded him of all the reasons why he longed for her so desperately while he was away. She made him feel weak and strong at the same time; lost, yet found. And when he held her in his arms, the world around them seemed at peace, finally after years of chaos.

These reasons also explained why he gave into her that night in his loft, more than a lifetime ago. With her he could be himself and let her wipe away the pain he was so often ashamed to show anyone else. Her love for him was the source, the pool of renewed life. And to her in return, he offered all he could give: his heart, his protection, and his own, unguarded love.

Only now after all this time, while he exchanged with her his deepest intimacies, did he realize he had actually been imprisoning his true feelings for her throughout the years of their friendship. For what he saw for so long as platonic adoration had actually been romantic love in disguise, waiting for it's chance to shine and waiting until he was ready to embrace it fully. Their lovemaking left no room for interpretation, and he, to this day, loathed himself for taking so long to recognize what he wanted the most. More so, he was disgusted with himself for having to take such drastic measures as to sleeping with her until he accepted the truth.

But the method didn't matter now. All of it had only been a means to an end. To this end, where he found himself encircled in Chloe's loving arms, with nothing to fear any longer.

_Yes, because now I am hers, and she is mine. The very absolution I can't live one more day without. _

Clark moved his lips to her chin, to her cheek, and then began to kiss his way down the left side of her neck. He heard her whimper a little against him, felt her hands drop lower to touch his chest, to linger near his waist. She grazed soft kisses along his right shoulder, down his arm, as she slowly unbuttoned his shorts. Clark sucked in a breath when she gripped his erection gently through the fabric, her intimate contact trying to weaken him. He continued on with his kisses, but soon found his eyes and his heart glued to her fingertips, watching her beckon him further into arousal with every caress. He had never been so alive as he was in this moment, taken, possessed, and treasured by the woman of his dreams.

Carefully, he found the hem of her blouse, slipped his hands underneath, and relished in the feel of her smooth, soft skin. Clark smiled slightly when he remembered the love affair he once had with her stomach. She used to squirm and squeal underneath him whenever he spent time lavishing her belly with warm kisses, usually only minutes after they'd made love. He always had a strong desire to worship her thoroughly in the afterglow of their lovemaking, and never did her sounds of exhausted pleasure disappoint him. There was something evanescent and radiant about the way her skin gleamed with sweat, how her eyes glazed over. She was her most sensually beautiful when her body was spent, seconds, minutes, even hours separated from their time together.

Feeling emboldened by his memories, Clark tugged up on her blouse. The garment was gone in moments, and as he dropped it to the kitchen floor beside them, he couldn't stop himself from staring at her, so consumed by her beauty. She wore a baby blue bra, but it did little to hinder his view. He still saw an exceptional outline of her swollen breasts through the material, and her nipples stood slightly erect due to the drop in temperature because of the storm. Gingerly, he placed his right hand over her navel, and then glided his fingertips up close to her bra, his caress lingering there. Though time away from her made him hesitate, his mind still played through the many things he wanted to do to her tonight.

Six years ago he would have been reckless, loving her with the haste their passion was so often accustomed. But tonight, now older and more experienced, he realized the benefit of taking his time. He hadn't made love to anyone since Chloe, back so long ago on her living room floor. So he went slower now, not only because he wanted to cherish her and make their lovemaking last, but also because he wanted do this right. Their love, after all these years, deserved more than a raunchy sexual interlude played out on the hard surface of his kitchen counter.

Rather it deserved moments of true greatness.

Clark noticed her watching him intently as he touched her, as he hesitated. He wanted to ask her whether he should continue, just to make sure he was receiving the right signals, but she took action before he had the chance. Smiling softly, she took his right hand and placed it gently on her right breast. Her eyes never wavered from his, her stare soft and confident. Clark could feel her breathing, her heartbeat, and knew they were falling back helplessly into the depths of their powerful, crazy love affair. It was all he could do to suppress the sudden resurgence of his reckless side. And rather than succumb to the sensations of the threatening haste, he took a deep breath and began to rub her breasts soothingly with his hand.

Chloe was nervously excited as he touched her again, so intimately, so delicately. Her need for him was greater now than she had ever known, as if everything in her life, both good and bad, had led her to this point. There was going to be something amazing about their lovemaking this time around, she just knew it. The longer he kissed her, the more tenderly he cupped her breasts, the clearer her thoughts became. They wasted six years pretending, fighting, and denying. And in the end, they were back where they began, both writhing anxiously against the other, consumed with pleasure, awaiting the moment when they would be joined as one.

Yet what differed from the beginning was their commitment, because now every obstacle once stopping them from being happy with one another had finally been removed. Fate, at long last, was offering them the greatest gift of all.

_Each other._

They kissed again, but this time with far more urgency. Clark continued to knead her breast gently, making her moan into the kiss. She pressed her body into his and drew her hands up his chest, past his shoulders, and cupped the back of his neck. He circled his arms around her waist when she changed their embrace slightly, then squeezed her ass slightly to entice her further, making her giggle and whisper his name eagerly against his shoulder. Her whisper was quickly followed by a yelp when he suddenly picked her up effortlessly in his arms. Instantly she wrapped her legs around him, and looking down into his eyes now, she leaned in and kissed him hard. She felt his tongue in her mouth; his teeth on her bottom lip, then listened to his groan as she threaded her hands through his hair.

When she released him from her kiss to draw in much needed oxygen, Chloe realized they were in the kitchen no longer. Around her, she recognized Clark's bedroom, a place she had been only a couple of times during high school. So engrossed in him, she had no idea he had moved them here until now. With a little smile, she gazed at him longingly, amusedly. He would never cease to amaze her.

"Anxious?" she teased breathlessly, kissing him again.

He moaned against her lips. "You have no idea."

Clark carried her for a few more seconds, and then dropped her backwards slowly onto the bed. She gripped his arm as he lowered her, pulling him with her as she descended, their kisses continuous. Gently he settled his body above her, and placed his arms on either side of her to help hold his weight. However, when her hands returned to his shorts, he moaned and almost lost his balance because of her. She unzipped him, her actions drawn from his quiet pleas, and slipped her hands inside to caress him. She rubbed the heel of her hand across his erection with ease and it was more than enough to make him squirm desperately against her.

Chloe kissed his cheek, his neck, and behind his ear. He licked her skin once more, her taste sweet, exotic, before he slipped her bra strap down over her shoulder with the gentle pull of his teeth. He tugged the other side off in the same fashion, and then placed his hands behind her back to unclasp the bra entirely. Sensing the events to come, Chloe leaned her head back against the pillow and closed her eyes, but continued to run her hands through his hair to urge him on. A warm breeze rushed across her breasts the second he exposed them, and like always, she realized the search for her bra in his bedroom would take her all the next morning. At the height of her passion her clothes always ended up somewhere far off, thrown carelessly away by an alien mad with desire.

Lightning flashed violently across the sky, and only then did Chloe remember the other storm raging like fire just outside. Thunder bellowed low over the horizon, her loud whimper following close in its wake. Clark was working his tongue and lips on her breasts relentlessly, worrying her skin until he left his mark behind. When he sucked on her nipple, she knew she wouldn't be able to stand his teasing much longer. She bent her head close to him and bit down hard on his earlobe to counter the mind-blowing sensations, to save merely a smidgen of lucidity before her first orgasm tried to take hold. Because she knew the moment the first wave washed over her, any previous sensibility would be lost, hostage to her sexual needs. And she wanted to _feel_ this, to_ enjoy _it before her mind grew dark with desire.

Clark couldn't take much more either. He lifted himself off of her, and stood at the foot of the bed, allowing his eyes to drink her in. She was lying out on his bed like a dream, her brunette hair still glistening from the rain. Her lips were red from their kisses, her breasts swelled, her nipples large, erect from his mouth. He looked up into her eyes and found his heart residing there. She tried to reach for him, but he took her hand before she could nudge him back into her space. His desire to take this slow was still held predominant inside of him. They had all night to reunite, to remember. And he had no intention to waste one second of it.

Holding her stare, he removed his beige shorts. His boxer shorts came off next, and for the first time in six years he was standing naked in front of Chloe. His heart felt like it was going to leap from his chest, as his amazement of the experience to come still left him breathless after all this time. He noticed her eyes drop long enough to gaze at him, long enough to make him feel worthy. Slowly he climbed back onto the bed on his knees. She shifted her gaze back up to his face when he moved, and he smiled when he realized she was short of breath, her cheeks flush. This was happening, they both knew it. And neither had the slightest urgency to stop it. Clark almost felt the need to tell her how much he has thought of this moment, but instead he remained quiet.

He wanted to tell her by other means.

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**_to be continued_**


	24. Chapter 20b

**A/N:** Thanks for waiting. This is only part of what I've been writing for the past month. Hopefully more will be on the way soon. Inspiration for Smallville has been incredibly tough to muster up, so I'm sorry for the large timeframes between each update.

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Chloe watched him curiously as he lifted her left leg. He glided his hand down her shin, which was followed close by a lingering, wet kiss. She laughed in the dark when he suddenly tickled her knee, his touch electric, exciting. Although she tried to jerk away from his unbearable, yet pleasurable advances, he held her firm and pressed a kiss to the inside of her ankle. He lifted her right leg next, kissed it from knee to toes before he let go, then moved closer to her. He unbuttoned her shorts first, and removed them swiftly. She watched him intently as he touched her stomach, his fingertips grazing close to her waist. He bent his head down close and brushed the edge of her blue panties with his tongue, making her stiffen against him. A tiny small crept across his lips, as her sensual reaction to him made his insides quiver in a way he had never felt before.

Her hands returned to his hair, gripped the back of his head insistently the longer he teased, the longer he tasted. He kissed her gently through her panties, then leaned back and slid them slowly down her legs, removing them completely. She reached for him again, now as both were naked in front of the other. And this time he didn't make her wait.

Clark lowered himself on top of her once more, now with a much more permanent purpose. Chloe sighed contentedly underneath him when he was finally settled and comfortable. His perfect body covered her petite form completely, like a puzzle piece fitting snugly into its mate. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, and the extra touch added kindling to the fire, built the heat. Despite herself, she could already feel the tall tale signs of an impending orgasm as it brewed deeply within her. Nothing could help her describe the feeling of being with him again, standing on the brink of their love taking physical form. She found her touch drawn to the simplistic, gliding her fingertips along his arms, his shoulders, and his torso while the anticipation began to consume them.

He fastened his lips to her throat, licked and sucked on her skin. She whimpered softly, licked his shoulder, then circled her arms around him and pulled him closer, urging him to give her more. He placed one hand on the pillow next to her head for balance, and the other he dropped slowly to her hip. His hand fit perfectly there, Clark realized. It had been so long since they had made love, he had forgotten how well their bodies complimented each other.

Every move, every curve and muscle ... _they were meant for this, born to find each other and make love. _

Chloe gripped his back eagerly, and buried her face in his neck. Clark pushed forward a little, prompting her to open her legs and wind them around his waist. One of her hands helped guide him, helped give him strength and courage to continue. And within moments, he was inside of her.

For a long time they stayed still. Clark lifted his head to look down into her eyes, to ensure he wasn't hurting her. She merely smiled and kissed his lips, then settled her forehead against his. She rubbed his back soothingly, and bit her lip when she felt him pulse within her. He must have noticed her reaction to him, because he quickly covered her mouth with his own before she could release another whimper. They kissed endlessly, passionately, each exploring the other with their lips, their hands, their hearts. Clark pressed his thumb against her hip bone as he dropped his lips to her chin, to her neck. He went lower still when she arched into him, and he lavished her breasts with his tongue.

When he felt her squirming again, Clark quickly returned his lips to hers. He sensed her eagerness, but his time spent worshipping her body was so essential to him.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered into their kiss. "Can't get enough of you."

She smiled. And the words rolled off her tongue.

"Make love to me, Clark."

Her hand slid across his cheek. Her fingertips gentle, her touch breathtaking.

"Don't make me wait another lifetime."

Staring deeply into her eyes, he finally and gently began to move. By the first stroke, he could already see the sensual strain on her face as she struggled to adjust to him. Beads of sweat had formed on her forehead, eyelids, and neck because of their excursions, and the extra moisture on her skin made her glisten like an angel in the blossoming night. Pressing down into her, he felt her heart pounding in her chest like a hammer. The sexual heat escaping from her body overcame him, embraced him. Yet with the thought of hurting her still lingering in his mind, together with the present achiness still shown on her face, he considered pulling out to give them both time to become reacquainted with another, especially after so many years apart.

Chloe, however, had no intentions of slowing down. Perhaps she sensed his thoughts, because despite any momentary uneasiness of her own, she suddenly tightened around him like a vise to prevent him from escaping, certain and needy for the completion of this moment. She had already let go of him once, and she didn't want to do it again.

Her graceful insistence promptly quieted his fears. After he gently kissed the corner of her mouth, he continued on with his full and steady thrusts. She pressed her fingertips hard into his shoulders when he increased the pace, desperately hanging on through the beautiful gracefulness of his steadfast love. Clark watched her intently through his passionate haze, and smiled gratefully when her former expression of discomfort finally changed over into total bliss. Her entire being was melting inside of him, like a river returning to the ocean, to its home.

After only a few minutes of intense lovemaking, Clark felt their control slipping away. It was a type of chaos he had sensed in their passion before, and just as before, it was displayed in her tiny, sexual whimpers and in his frantic kisses to her skin. It was a point of no return, the last threshold to cross before only their natural tendencies remained. He scraped his teeth across one of her nipples to help balance his mind before he lost it completely, because he truly wanted to cherish this moment as more than a hasty, passionate reunion. And his heart fluttered when she moaned against him, her appreciation of his forethought apparent in the gasps settled on her lips.

He offered her all he was, all he had to give, and took from her the payment due a lover so intimately cherished.

Clark tried to stay in eye contact with her as long as possible. He tried to stay focused on the feelings raging between them, reawakened and alive. But eventually the demand of his heart, of his body was too powerful, and he couldn't help but surrender to them and to her. Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes and buried his face against her shoulder as the last shred of his rational thought finally left him completely.

Chloe held on for only a few minutes longer than Clark. She dropped her head back onto the pillow and hummed quietly, enjoying each one of his strokes and each wave of excitement they brought her. She moved back against him with her hips, matching his pace with exceptional ease. It felt wonderful being with him again, like the lost pages of her life had finally been restored. Amazingly, she had almost forgotten what an amazing lover he had always been. Already her body was shuddering with the living memory of his kisses, of his cock buried within her. Only he, so well endowed, could reach far into her depths, as if he was literally touching her soul.

Now he was doing it again, and it made her tremble harder the more he moved, the more he massaged and rubbed those places so deep inside, so close to her core. She smiled a little when she heard him start to grunt with each thrust, noting his lack of vocal restraint while having sex had not changed. She loved listening to him; mostly because it made her incredible knowing she was the reason for his sounds.

Their search for one another was finally over on this night. Though they neglected their feelings, misunderstood them again and again, unspoken requests had not changed since they first slept together.

Time, desire, and love brought them together once more, under different circumstances, yet with the same goal – to wash away the pain and to embrace the true happiness that had always been waiting for them. Despite how often each had tried to forget each other, only now did they realize the full impact of the love they had tried so hard to ignore. Their love had been the beacon in their lives, had held them up in their darkest hours, and had kept them together even when miles and tragedies had separated them.

Yes, their love, no matter previous impressions, had never left them completely.

The earth grew still as the climax of theirperfect unionwhispered closer. Magnificent sensations began to roll over Chloe's body one right after the other, with little to no time in between them to recover from their intensity. She gasped underneath him, her breath gone from her chest as her muscles weakened, and her body tensed around him like a vise. Wrapping her legs tighter around his waist, she clung to him anxiously in the final moments, just before the last of her control escaped her. With her senses suddenly heightened and fleeting, she listened as the bed beneath them creaked, as the breathing of her lover quickened against her neck and as the headboard above her clipped the wall on every thrust. The familiar rhythm of their love was raucously taking form, driving the moment, in the same fashion it had done so long ago. And with it, for the first time in six years, she knew she was exactly where she wanted to be.

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**_to be continued ..._**


	25. Chapter 20c

A/N: Next section. Sorry for how long it has taken me to update. Writing for this fandom lately has been a real bear. But I'm feeling the power of this story again, so I hope this next update will leads to the end very soon. Because the story is close. Thanks again for all of your patience.

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Whether he liked it or not, Clark knew Chloe was right. Hiccups in their communication caused far more problems in their relationship than he wanted to admit, and he certainly didn't want to wake up tomorrow morning without Chloe beside him. Without the proper armor of love and devotion set into place, anything in this world could stop their happiness. He knew that now.

Clark closed his eyes and set his head on her chest, just under her chin and along her right breast. He slid his right hand across her smooth stomach, then tightened his arm around her as he spoke.

"Okay," he conceded gently. "You're right. We should clear the air completely before we try to move past this."

"No hiding skeletons," she added, gliding her hand across the arm encircling her. She placed a kiss to his forehead. "Especially those named Lana."

"Or Jimmy."

After a short pause, Chloe looked down to him with slight surprise. "Jimmy?"

Clark nodded, but kept his eyes closed.

"I thought you always liked Jimmy."

"Sometimes I did …" he agreed, then added simply, " … and sometimes I didn't."

Chloe smiled softly to herself, fully aware she was hearing what she had suspected all along - jealousy. His admission made their forthcoming conversation even more important, as all the feelings she had previously discovered between them throughout their years together, and apart for that matter, suddenly doubled in value. When Clark kissed her underneath the oak tree Chloe knew she had sensed more in his lips than just nostalgic love. He kissed her that day not only to relinquish what they had lost, but also to erase every moment he was forced to watch from a distance while someone else gave her what he had wanted to all along.

Even earlier tonight, Clark hinted at his dislike of that particular year in their lives, the year between the end of their affair and their separation. Only now did Chloe realize _how much _he really hated it, and _all_ the reasons why. Maybe his jealously wasn't sexual in nature at all. Maybe he really did love her, like she always wanted.

Far back in her mind, Chloe remembered something her father always told her about men. Mostly, their discussions always turned into warnings about meeting the wrong guy. _Watch where you go, and always keep your drink close to you. Never be alone with someone you don't know. _But then, towards the end of these father-daughter lectures about love and sex, he usually explained how she would know when she met the right one.

_If you think of each other constantly, if you would risk everything you are to be with them. And if you are as mad as hell when they're flirting with someone else. _

Well, there was only one way to find out for sure. Having sex only answered part of their questions, leaving far too many concerns in their relationship still unanswered.

They really did need that talk.

Knowing what was best for them, Chloe slowly disengaged herself from his embrace. She tried to slip out of the bed to stand, but Clark grabbed her arm insistently.

"I thought you wanted to talk?" he asked.

Turning to him, she replied with a soft smile, "I do." She gently pushed his hand off her arm, but kept it enclosed in her own. "But we both know how easily we can succumb to sinful temptation."

Clark groaned when she slipped out of the bed completely, then walked closer to the door. As she turned to look at him, he groaned a little more, sensing their morning in bed would indeed be cut short. Her eyes always told him everything.

Lifting himself up on his elbow, he reasoned softly, "I think we're strong enough to do it here."

Chloe smirked. "Really? We only perform two things when we're in bed together, and talking has never been one of them."

Clark sighed heavily in retreat, but did not move immediately. Instead he sat up and leaned back against the headboard, and for the next several minutes he watched Chloe's elegant, naked form move around his room. By her glances to the floor, she was clearly trying to find something appropriate to cover herself with before they retreated to another part of the house. Her top from yesterday, and maybe her underwear, would've been enough. She was simply with Clark the morning after sex, and the time for discretion had long since passed.

But with the strange disappearance of her entire wardrobe from the night before, she decided that one of his blue, button down, short-sleeve shirts would have to do for now. Because the shirt was Clark's, it was large enough to go down to her thighs, effectively covering most of her intimate areas.

Just as Chloe slipped it over her shoulders, she glanced over and realized Clark still hadn't moved, and was staring at her intently.

"What? What are you staring at, Kent?"

_Many things … shapely legs, curvy hips, smooth stomach, and those beautiful, round breasts …_

"You," he finally whispered, after a moment. "Only you."

She blushed noticeably, but quickly turned and moved towards the door to hide her face. On the way, she picked up his jeans, and when she turned to look at him once more, the flush now gone from her cheeks, she threw them on the bed next to him.

"Put your pants on, sweetheart," she laughed, giving him a wink. "I promise to make the best coffee you've ever had."

Clark grabbed his jeans in surrender, but she was through the door and down the stairs before he had the chance to give her his own naked side show.

The sun was finally beginning to slip over the distant hills, shining light and warmth on the earth below. The morning melody of the rooster, the cows, and the birds began to filter into Clark's open window, reminding him of the new day, of the new future they awaited him downstairs. Six years of waiting could be washed away completely in the next few moments, and the exhilaration finally urged his waking body to life.

Standing from the bed, Clark slipped his jeans on and eagerly followed the aroma of the freshly brewing coffee. He dropped down the stairs with ease, but stopped at the final step when he saw Chloe, standing half naked in the same kitchen his mom cooked her award-winning pies. With a little smile, he watched her in silence for the second time this morning, but because her attention was entirely on her task, she had no idea he was there. Also, her current search was for coffee mugs and silverware hidden in cupboards rather than underwear lost in the abyss of his bedroom floor.

Sunlight from the kitchen window glimmered through the blue shirt she wore, giving him an amazingly outline of her incredible body hiding deliciously underneath. He truly couldn't remember the last time he had seen such a beautiful woman.

He almost lost his balance when she reached up on her tiptoes in order to reach a bowl on the top shelf. The movement caused her oversized shirt to ride up her back, enabling him to capture a perfect view of her naked backside. It took all his will not to walk up behind her and squeeze it.

Chloe must've heard something, either his breathing or his footstep when he awkwardly descended the last step, because she finally turned and noticed him.

Smiling, she lifted a mug to him. "Still a double cream man?"

Clark almost choked on his own spit.

"Yeah," he whispered hoarsely, licking his lips nervously. Why his throat had suddenly dried up, he had no clue.

Chloe set a few handfuls of blueberries into the same bowl she retrieved from the cupboards. Along with the fruit, she was also able to find a few left over muffins, perceivably from the morning before due to their sustained freshness.

Placing the assorted muffins on a plate, she replied, "I know this isn't your usual five-star, home cooked breakfast from Mom, but my subscription to the cooking channel expired on my first day at the _Planet_ years ago."

Clark stepped closer, yet spoke as if he hadn't heard a word she had said.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to come home."

Chloe poured their coffee, then handed him his mug. "It's okay. I'm pretty used to an absent Clark."

"Well, I want to change that. I don't want you to get used to me not being here ever again."

If she had been watching one of the dozen or so chick flicks she had in her DVD collection, Chloe probably would've started crying at this point. However, from the previous experiences she's had with Clark, she knew better than to let her emotions cloud her judgment.

She loved his words, maybe even believed them. But the doubt she's carried since that morning after their first night together remained inside of her, stronger now that she reinstituted their conversation to a place separate from their bed. For anything to happen between them, she needed more than just words and promises. Too often they failed her.

What she really needed was his commitment, to her and to whatever this thing was between them. She also needed his heart, completely and without the worry of whether she was sharing it with someone else.

Handing him the bowl of blueberries, she replied softly, "How about we take this one step at a time, uh, tiger?"

Clark nodded as he took the bowl, knowing it was best for both of them to take this slow. Rushing their relationship because he felt terrible for the six misspent years in their past was not the solution, even though his heart thought it was.

Chloe grabbed the plate of muffins, then gestured for the two of them to retire to the living room. She considered utilizing the blanket on the back of the couch and spreading it out on the floor as kind of a picnic, but decided against it when she realized how steamy the morning had become. When she first came downstairs the temperature had just spiked past seventy. However, judging by the perspiration that had formed on her neck in the last twenty minutes, she was sure it had risen far higher. Sitting on the floor in this rising heat seemed like suicide, because it was likely Clark would take the opportunity to make it more so. Considering their track record with living room floors, it was certain their conversation would lead straight to sex.

But then the couch wasn't a much better choice, either. She did remember their history with couches, especially since this entire affair started on one.

Stifling heat or not, outside on the porch swing sounded perfect.

"I liked the front porch from last night. Let's go there again."

Clark shrugged. "Okay, sure. There might be more of a breeze outside anyway," he agreed, then added in the next breath, "But why don't we get dressed instead? I know a great place we can go."

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_more to come... _


	26. Chapter 21

**Okay, next section. It's coming along. I'm getting closer and closer to the end.**

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**_A few minutes later ..._**

While Chloe was upstairs attempting to find all of her clothes so she could get dressed, Clark was downstairs packing their breakfast in a picnic basket. He placed the blueberries in Tupperware, wrapped the muffins in napkins, and the coffee he poured into a large thermos. After they were washed, he placed their mugs into the basket, as well. On a whim, he decided to add a little more fruit, two oranges and a pear, because he realized they might not return to the house any time soon.

Once they were both dressed, each in the same clothes they wore yesterday, Clark took her hand and led her outside. He held the basket in his other hand, and they walked in a pleasant silence until they reached the barn.

"I need to get one more thing," he said, handing her the basket.

Before Chloe could say a word he was gone and back in a flash, with a new item in his hand. The Native American blanket from his loft.

She smiled and ran her hand across it's soft material. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen it. Didn't matter, really, because all Chloe wanted to remember was their first night together, the same night they used it to cover themselves after they made love. The feelings born from that night soared back into her heart, full and thunderous. With everything they had been through, she'd almost forgotten what they had shared in those first moments of their affair. It was the reason why they had continued to see each other over that next week. They had been there for each other, fully and completely, when each needed to feel loved in a time of great, personal loneliness.

And it was the reason why they made love over and over again during the last eight hours. Neither of them could help it. They were being driven but that love, that need for intimacy with someone they could trust completely.

To her surprise, Clark didn't pick her up and fly them to their destination. Rather, they took their time walking across the Kent Farm, through fields she had not been in years, with the picnic basket in his hand and the blanket in hers. Clark used to take her through here all the time when they were just thirteen. Pete Ross often joined them, but there were plenty of afternoons and evenings she and Clark spent out here alone. Martha Kent probably would've had a heart attack had she known Clark's promiscuous activities.

Obviously, other than a little experimental hand holding and snuggling, nothing came of their time together back then. But Chloe would never give those memories back, because so much of what they shared with one another back then was more intimate than anything she ever shared with anyone else since. Through all the boyfriends she ever had, Clark was always closer to her than any of them. He was always her best friend.

However, despite how well she once knew this farm, at the moment Chloe was having trouble figuring out where he was taking them. Considering where the conversation between them might lead, she made a pact with herself to relearn the Kent farmland. She wanted to know everything about her soul mate, all over again.

"Looks like it's going to be a scorcher," Clark commented softly, his eyes to the clear, blue sky above them.

"I don't think I remember a summer in Smallville that didn't leave you with a season long sunburn."

He laughed. "That's true. We spent quite a few afternoons at Crater Lake trying to cool off."

"Everyone else did that, too, remember? If it hadn't been one hundred degrees outside, you'd of thought the crowds were gathering for the annual Smallville square dance competition."

"Didn't _The Torch_ cover that every year?" he replied coyly.

"Only because the high school principal threatened to cut my press pass in a guillotine if I didn't subject myself to Smallville's own brand of medieval style torture."

"Ouch," Clark said, slightly offended. "I forgot city girls would rather be dancing on a table in the middle of Club Zero, half-naked."

Chloe pulled away from him, eyes wide, as they continued to walk.

"I never did that," she insisted, exasperated. Though she could hardly hide the half smile pulling along her lips.

"Oh, okay. Must've been another city girl. And maybe she wasn't half-naked, just really eager to flash any guy who gave her a decent tip."

"I think you have your stories mixed up, Mr. Kent."

Clark shook his head, but tugged her closer with his hand. "Maybe."

She smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Yeah, maybe. Maybe I was just there in the crowd, watching a certain brunette cousin with the initials L.L., doing what you're saying. She does have the history of stripping, after all."

Clark slowed their pace when he noticed she had quickly become quiet, as both realized where their banter had led them. Though it had been five years, he wanted to be sure.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, squeezing her hand. "I didn't realize … I mean, I should've remembered more clearly. I wouldn't have brought it up had I known."

Chloe shrugged, but looked away. It didn't bother her to talk about Lois, not for a long time. However, talking about her with Clark made the past seem closer, and sent a pang of sadness through her chest. The three of them really had been through a lot together.

Up ahead Clark could see their spot, and the brush of remorse in their conversation faded. He squeezed her hand a little tighter, urging her to look at him. The flush in her face was gone the moment she saw the excitement in his eyes, because she sensed they were close.

"Where are you taking me? If I didn't know any better, I would say you had plans to take me to a secluded spot to ravish me."

Clark interlaced their fingers, then motioned his head towards what was just ahead. "Come on," he whispered, kissing her hand.

Chloe gazed over, but still couldn't get sense of exactly what she was looking at. All she could see was endless fields of golden grass, crops and trees. Clark didn't give her time to contemplate it any further, either, before he tugged her forward and began to jog towards their destination. At normal speed she struggled to keep up with him, especially in such tall grass. His legs were twice as long as hers it seemed, so she had to work twice as hard to keep at his pace. Because she concentrated solely on her balance and her breathing, she still didn't gather her surroundings as they drew closer.

Despite the growing burn in her lungs, she started to smile and laugh. She was chasing Clark like a girl would a boy in the schoolyard, and by his own laughter she knew he was enjoying their temporary madness just as much as she. Chloe felt free, alive, and wonderful, and she couldn't remember the last time she had had this much fun.

Clark finally slowed his pace, and when he turned around Chloe dropped the blanket and jumped happily in his arms. If she hadn't been so out of breath, she would've kissed him passionately on the mouth rather than kiss him softly on his nose. He twirled her around only once before he dropped her back to her feet, though he kept his embrace strong and warm around her.

After he dropped the picnic basket, he drew a hand to her cheek and asked softly, "Do you know the spot now?"

Chloe stepped away from him only slightly, just enough to look all around them. The sun was beating down hard, forcing her to squint and place her hand above her eyes. It had been a long time, and years of flagrant dreams, but after a moment … yes, she knew exactly where they were. How could she not have known?

"The oak tree," she breathed, disbelieving. Somehow, she never thought she would see it ever again.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her gently towards the wonderful shade waiting for them underneath the tree's massive branches.

"Yeah," he said finally. "Our oak tree."

Chloe didn't know what to say. The oak tree where she last saw Clark before he left for his training was the absolute last place she expected him to take her. She didn't believe either of them had taken anything good from their experience here. And yet, just standing in the same spot they had five years ago made her strangely remorseful. There was pain, of course, but there was also a sense of nostalgia, the flash of a memory she couldn't quite place.

"Let me get the blanket and picnic set up," he said quietly.

Chloe nodded and watched him, her mind still a whirlwind of thought and surprise. He laid the blanket out on the ground as close to the tree trunk as possible. Then he gathered up the picnic basket and set it on the blanket. Just as he dropped to his knees to begin unpacking their breakfast, Chloe dropped to her knees in front of him.

"Why did you bring me here?" she finally asked, uncertain of the direction he wanted to take this conversation. The last time he brought her here he broke her heart. She really didn't believe she could go through that a second time.

Clark didn't look to her at first, but kept his eyes on his task. After he took the thermos out of the basket, then the fruit, he answered timidly, "Because I thought it was time to make things right."

He glanced up to her a second later, and found her staring at him intently.

"So you do remember what happened the last time we came here?"

Clark reached for her hand. "I do. And I also remember what happened the _first time_ we were here."

Chloe's eyebrows rose with interest. "The first time? I know my brunette hair was quite the newsflash for you, but I would've hoped by last night you were certain I wasn't Lana."

"I never brought Lana here," he promised, amused by the very idea.

"How about someone else? You were socially inept in high school, just like the rest of us permanently stationed in the ranks of the exclusively unwanted. But even you had other girls you liked and probably tried to impress, other than Lana or myself. If it's not Lana, then you're probably remembering one of them," she reasoned.

Clark shook his head adamantly. "No, I don't think so."

"Well, then, maybe you're thinking of a dream. I'm sure this place robbed you of at least a few hours of sleep."

He poured coffee into a mug and handed it to her. She looked to him, waiting for the acknowledgment of his own torture when thinking of this tree.

"I did lose sleep because of what I left here five years ago, and I did dream of bringing you here again since. But I'm not talking about that, either."

Chloe sipped her coffee. "Then what are you talking about? It's been a long time, but I really think I would remember coming here more than once."

Clark shuffled closer to her. He took her mug out of her hand and set it down on the blanket next to them. Then tugging her towards him, he wrapped his arms around her, warm and loving. Just one look into her eyes reminded him of the impetuous road their affair had taken them. So many miles, so many minutes and hours wasted and gone. So few moments spent in each other's arms, loving one another. So few nights making love under the stars, and so few words used to say _'I love you.'_

Regardless of the heartache they had caused one another, and despite how long they spent apart, Clark was more sure now than ever. It was time to start over.

He glided his fingertips down across her cheek, and let the emotion inside of him take control.

"I never meant to hurt you, Chloe. The kiss I shared with Lana was inexcusable, especially after I pressured you all week to trust me. I'm sorry I hurt you in that way."

Chloe sighed deeply and leaned into his touch.

"You weren't the only one, Clark," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I kept you at arm's length all through that week. And I've been pushing you away now, all because I've been scared to give what we have here a chance. My doubt was one of the reasons why we had to wait six years to reunite. If I hadn't been so damn prideful, and had just let you come and get me that night … or if I had just given into you from the beginning …"

Clark smiled warmly, pulled her closer. "Chloe, you had every reason to question what was going on. What happened between us was so sudden. I had just broken up with Lana, lost my father. Lex had just said some horrible things to you."

She shook her head and looked away. What happened with Lex six years ago she barely remembered, and didn't matter now. Clark had just broken up with Lana only weeks before he decided to have sex with his best friend. And his father's death had been a tremendous tragedy still rippling like a tidal wave through his life.

But the night Chloe slept with Clark, the two had sex together three times. Two days later they had sex in a stock room. And a few days after that they had sex four times in her living room.

Last night they had sex twice, and a third round still loomed dangerously in the air even now.

What brought them together their first night meant nothing. However, what inspired them to continue, to keep having sex again and again meant everything. The hurt comfort they sought in one another faded during the first orgasm, and was replaced by something twice as powerful. They found not only each other that night, but something both had been searching for their entire lives.

For six years since then they've tried to play it off as a one time deal, tried to solve their sadness by reasoning their affair as an expected, terrible mistake in their friendship.

Yet neither could stop the dreams, the longings, and the very basic burn of their heart for the other. They've been desperate for one another, both sexually and emotionally. The night they shared six years ago had only been the beginning, rather than the end.

Kissing him gently on the lips, she finally replied, "I know I used our pain to justify what we did. But I didn't feel pain when we were standing underneath this oak tree five years ago. And I didn't feel pain when I made love to you last night. You tried to convince me before, but I just didn't want to believe it."

Clark pressed his cheek against hers. "Believe what?"

"How much I love you. How much I have loved you all this time," she breathed, her heart racing with her admission.

He didn't say anything for a long time, but answered her by rubbing her back lightly with his hands. Though the shade protected them, Clark could still sense the sun's heat caressing her skin through the fabric of her blouse. The summer breeze whisked by them like a song, traveled through the trees like a prayer. Everything around them fell silent, save for their breathing and the tranquil melody of their beating hearts. All Clark could truly feel and understand was Chloe, as her body molded and formed to his own. Years spent apart were washing away the longer they stayed here, secure in each other's embrace. Anger and sadness disappeared, and darkness became light.

Bringing his mouth to her ear, he said in return, "And I have always loved you. And I always will."

Chloe kissed him once more, soft and full. The wind whooshed around them for a final time before it died down for good, leaving only the sun's bright rays to shine down upon them for the rest of the day. She moaned quietly against his lips, then released them so she could lay her head on his chest. He nuzzled her hair, caught the aroma of her jasmine scented shampoo. Her skin felt so soft underneath his fingertips, as he ran his hands along her arm and back.

Clark lowered his lips to her neck, and baby-kissed the smooth skin there until she squirmed a little against him.

"So what does all of this mean?" he murmured against her shoulder, amused at her response to him.

She threaded her fingertips up into his dark locks, and smiled.

"It means," she began, urging his head up so she could look into his eyes. "It means I can finally have you all for myself."

Clark laughed and kissed her passionately.

"I like that," he replied between kisses. "I like that a lot."

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_**to be continued ...**_


	27. Chapter 22

_**A/N: **_Small update, but an update. I am currently writing the last scene, and I was hoping to post everything all at once. However, the last scene is requiring far more thought, so I'll have to post the final few pages in sections.

Thank you all again for your encouragement and reviews all through this story. This has been a toughie for me to finish, because my desire to write for Smallville comes in short bursts, and for less frequently than it used to.

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_Hours later ..._

By midday they were lying on the Native American blanket, both exhausted and naked from their third engagement of lovemaking for the day. Neither had tried to cover themselves, both because of the uncomfortable heat and their convenient proximity from the rest of civilization. And in the unlikely event that someone would try to find them and interrupt their moment, Clark was certain he would hear the person's approach before the two of them were completely embarrassed.

So far, however, nothing had tried to stop them. No calls from a sick parent, from a disgruntled ex-girlfriend, or from an enemy determined to destroy the world. They were here, together, alone, and ready for the rest of their lives.

Clark held Chloe tight against him. Her gorgeous form was on top of him, and though their lovemaking ended half an hour ago, they were mere minutes gone from the moment he finally slid out of her. Aside from the stock room, Clark could honestly say making love to Chloe outside under an oak tree was probably one of the most erotic moments of his life. If anything, he had fallen more in love with her since they had said the words to one another only hours ago.

He sighed deeply, and slid his fingertips across her smooth skin. Smoother now than before because of the beautiful sheen of sweat crystallizing her body.

"You're so amazing," he whispered, kissing her forehead.

She snuggled closer and glided her hand along his chest. He was so different, so muscular and confident. He had shown it in his lovemaking all night, and all through the day. Chloe adored the clumsy farmer's son she fell in love when she first arrived to Smallville. But the man in her arms was the very man she had hoped that young, clumsy kid would turn into.

Chloe brought his hand to her lips and kissed the palm.

Gazing up to him, she replied, "You are quite the exhibitionist, Clark. Did Lana ever get to see the kinky side you so astutely hide behind that modest exterior of yours?"

Clark brushed her hair back from her face with his other hand. "No," he admitted, his cheeks flushed. "I think you bring it out in me."

She kissed his the tip of his index finger, then gently sucked on it.

"I think I like the sound of that," she mused. She slid the tip of his middle finger slowly between her lips before she continued. "Chloe Sullivan, catalyst number one for Clark Kent's S & M tendencies during sex."

With a little smile, she climbed a top him a little more and began to kiss down the middle of his chest. Clark swallowed hard and closed his eyes, but could not stop the tingling sensation from traveling through his body with every touch of her lips. She knew how to make his toes curl, how to make him turn to jelly, and this was definitely one of those instances. Just as he did with her, she knew of every pleasure spot and pressure point. Such torturous knowledge came hand in hand with their intimacy.

He moaned aloud when her tongue grazed one of his nipples.

"God, Chloe," he swooned. "Are you trying to make us break our own personal record?"

She giggled.

"Maybe."

If they continued, Clark was sure four times during a day would be an easy mark to surpass, Of course, they had six years to make up for, so it was no wonder they were horny as hell. Her lips suckled on his other nipple, and this time he really did cry out. Chloe was right; during sex he was always incredibly easy. And noisy.

Chloe was almost straddling him, and just another few inches would give them both exactly what they wanted.

"Now who's the exhibitionist?" he asked huskily, his voice rough and cracking.

She laughed softly. "Good thing one of us can hear a cricket's sneeze two states away."

Just as she started to reposition herself, Clark's eyes caught sight of the real reason why he brought her here. Before their passion took control, he had wanted to tell her why the oak tree was so important to them. He was sure she didn't remember everything, only because she never mentioned it. Not to forget, the only reason why he remembered was because he had been lucky enough to see what he was seeing now.

Clark lowered his hands to her hips. "Chloe, do you know why I brought you here?"

She nuzzled his neck, pressed her breasts against his chest.

"You wanted to mend the hurt we created here five years ago," she answered softly, absently, as her mind was still clouded by the carnal grind of her need.

"That's right," he agreed. He gripped her hips a little more insistently and stopped her movements altogether. "But do you remember what I said? About our first time?"

Chloe lifted her eyes to look at him, suddenly aware he had never answered her question about that earlier. They were so caught up in each other and making love, she had let slip the beginning of their conversation. Strange what exchanging admissions of love can do to two people, like erase entire days without either knowing any better.

She propped her head up and glided her hand leisurely across his chest. He wanted a little more conversation, and her curiosity wasn't going to disappoint him.

"Yes, I remember," she said, eyebrows perched with interest. She bent down and kissed his lips. "But didn't you say it was your dream to get me back here for more sex?"

Clark smiled softly, then grabbed one of her hands in his and lifted it to a spot on the tree trunk. Chloe didn't know what he was doing until their enclosed hands reached their destination, and her eyes grew in shock the moment she noticed exactly what they were touching.

It had been so long ago, so many memories, so much anger and resentment …

Yet so much love, so much passion and intimacy …

It was no wonder she didn't notice it until now.

Her smile grew, and her eyes turned cloudy the longer she touched it. The longer she let her fingers run along the markings so impulsively etched. Clark glided his fingers along hers, remembering with her, taking her along the path back to the past they had so quickly forgotten.

The memory dripped into her consciousness like morning dew, held on tight until she recalled every single detail, for the first time in years. Yes, she remembered everything.

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**_more to come ..._**


	28. Chapter 23

**A/N: **_The story is moving closer and closer to the end. This is a much longer update than the last. Thanks to all who have been following this story since I started it so long ago, when I was still watching the show. And thanks once again for all of the reviews and confidence all of you have given me. It's what's encouraging me to continue and complete this story once and for all. _

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_**Thirteen Years Earlier … **_

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At thirteen, Clark Kent knew nothing of girls. Pete Ross, his best friend for almost half his life, was a _boy _and knew little about the subject. His childhood crush was a girl, but though she was his closest thing to a next door neighbor, they rarely spoke. Too often his own miserable clumsiness got in the way of him ever really having a meaningful conversation with her. As an adolescent, teenage boy, the subject of dating, girls, and anything in relation was still considered a far off, fearful world he knew he was too young to venture.

So when Chloe Sullivan entered his life, he really had no idea what to do or what to expect. She came to him eight months ago as a new student from the big city of Metropolis. The principal had assigned him the task of showing her around the school, which he did to the best of his nervous, boyish ability. He told her about the library hours, how to avoid the chicken cordon bleu whenever possible, and what school activities could probably cause bodily harm if entered into without caution.

He didn't imagine he had been at all charming, but maybe rather boring when he considered what other girls thought of him. To his surprise, she asked him all about his family and where he lived in town. And when he mentioned his farm, she insisted he take her there for a personal tour, as she had never seen one up close.

Hours later, after school and in the midst of his best tour of the farm to date, Chloe gave Clark his first kiss in the middle of his barn, his fortress of solitude. It lasted less than ten seconds, and it was wet and kind of strange. Yet her lips had been soft, breathtaking. He didn't remember fireworks shooting up into the sky, nor did the earth move underneath their feet. However, he knew then he would never forget it, because the imprint she had left on his heart was eternal.

At the moment, Clark was giving Chloe his second best tour of the farm. Spring had finally come to Smallville, though the ground was still a little wet from the cleansing rains throughout April. Chloe had insisted on a more detailed tour of his farm once the winter weather had finally broken, and he obliged her without thought. Their kiss had apparently deemed nothing worth pursuing romantically in their friendship, so he had no reason to be nervous around her. She made it clear the kiss had one purpose alone; to rid them of the uncomfortable attraction before it consumed them. They would be better friends if they didn't have to concern themselves with love.

Even now, Clark realized his knowledge of girls had not grown all that much with Chloe as his friend. She was just as confusing as the rest, because despite her big talk about keeping their friendship platonic, she couldn't stop holding his hand as they walked. She did that sort of thing often, hold his hand or his arm, and really, he didn't mind.

To spice up their walk a little, he decided to take her to the far reaches of the Kent Farm. Only he and his dad dared to venture this far, and it was why he never mentioned it to his parents before they left. No reason to worry them. He knew his way.

Chloe squeezed his hand and looked with awe across the endless fields of tall, wet grass. She was happy she had worn jeans rather than a skirt, because her legs would've been soaked and dirty by the time they returned.

"I can't believe you own this much land. Are you sure you're not a Luthor love child?"

Clark shook his head. "Yes, I'm sure. Besides, my family isn't rich. We work hard and we get by just fine."

"Okay, whatever," she replied, shrugging her shoulders. "But I want your first Daily Planet interview, when you go public and all."

"Oh, gosh, you never stop, do you?"

Chloe glanced to him, amused. "Oh, _gosh, _I guess I don't, Hercules," she quipped, using a name she had only recently started calling him. Only because she happened to catch a glimpse of him throwing a bail of hay like it was a beach ball.

Since then he had insisted to her time and again that his strength had a direct correlation with the amount of work he did everyday. Though he had no reason to lie, by the twinkle in her eye he knew she didn't believe him completely. _Whatever_, he thought to himself. _She's an aspiring reporter. She can believe what she wants. _

"So where are we exactly?" she asked, as she stepped carefully through the field.

Clark was glad for the change of subject. He could only take Chloe's shots at him for so long.

Lacing his fingers through hers, he replied, "In the middle of nowhere."

"Did you bring your boy scout survival kit with you? I think I'd feel better if you did."

"I've never been in the boy scouts."

"Really? An All-American boy such as yourself, never learning the five hundred ways to tie a knot? I find that hard to believe."

Clark shrugged sheepishly, suddenly feeling a little unworthy. Why hadn't he gone into the boy scouts? He knew plenty of his friends who had, including Pete.

"No. I guess my parents never really encouraged it," he said evenly. "I do know how to tie a knot in a few different ways, though, if that helps."

"I'll be happy enough if you remembered to leave a trail of bread crumbs."

Clark pulled her along until they reached lower grass. Then he pulled her close and turned her around to look back the way they had come. Reaching around her, he pointed towards the drooping sun, just where the rays were disappearing behind the far off horizon.

"See my house? It's just past those few trees, not too far away," he reassured, stepping close to her.

He felt her tighten, and he knew it was because of him. He was standing right up against her, like the barrier they had set between them didn't matter a bit. Not that he wanted anything serious to happen here, but Clark did enjoy standing this close to her. He was sure, as a growing new teenager, that his hormones had something to do with his reaction.

"I don't see it," she declared softly, her voice stiff.

Clark leaned in, let his breath melt against her shoulder. "It's okay. I promise, it's there."

When Chloe turned around they were mere centimeters apart from turning their platonic friendship into something more. Yet neither had the courage to take such a step, and within moments they had stepped away from one another, as if burned by the possibility.

They walked in silence for only a minute or so before Chloe chose to end it with a gesture, and she took his hand again. Clark received her silent message of truce and continued to walk them towards the end of the farm. Trees were further in the distance, save one that was only a minute or two away. Though he had been out here quite a few times, he had forgotten the existence of this particular tree. An oak tree, by the looks of it.

Clark brought them closer to it, just as dark clouds from the west started to slowly roll in.

With a little smile, he replied, "Though I lack formal survival training, I think the branches of this tree are large enough to offer us a little shelter. So we won't get soaked if it rains."

Chloe nodded, then looked up at the dreary sky. "I can't believe it turned dark so fast. I'm getting tired of this rain. It never rained this much in Metropolis. Another day of this, and we'll start seeing the animals line up at the Town Council's door step, two by two."

"My mom loves rain. Says its good for her garden."

She hugged herself instinctively and drew closer to Clark. Small rumbles of thunder began to rattle the sky.

"Come on," Chloe insisted. She tugged on his shirt sleeve, pulling him closer to the tree trunk and underneath the shelter of the branches.

Lightning flashed across the sky, and within moments the rain came down. Both Clark and Chloe stood and watched in silence as it poured around them. The branches did save them from most of the onslaught, but neither were able to dodge the raindrops completely. Clark didn't mind the rain so much, because it never seemed to be anything more than an inconvenience if he happened to get caught in it.

However, Chloe was a different story. When he turned to assess her condition, he noticed she was shivering, obviously cold due to the extraordinary elements. The temperature had dropped considerably since they began their walk, and she had ventured out without a coat. It was close to seventy degrees when they left, so neither thought they had any need for one.

Clark, feeling nothing but a need to protect her the best he could, stepped up to her and put an arm around her shoulders. She took his invitation without question, giving no forethought to her actions as she snuggled up to him. His clothes were not soaked, but they were wet enough that he wasn't sure how well he was helping her. He only hoped his internal heater would suffice.

Chloe's cheek was pressed against his chest and her arms were between them, her hands scrunched in his shirt, holding on as if they were trying to survive a tornado. Clark smiled inwardly, suddenly aware the usual, tough exterior he was so used to seeing on his friend was beginning to melt away. And though he would usually find the demolition of her outer wall amusing in any other circumstance, this evening he was worried for her.

"You don't fly or anything, do you?" she suddenly asked, her voice trembling now. "Because I would love to go home now."

Clark shook his head, though kept his recent discoveries to himself. If he noticed she was really having a tough time, he believed he probably could race them back to safety if he had to. Fearing the chance of looking like a freak in front of his new friend, he didn't dare perform his super speed trick any sooner.

And they were just too far way from the farmhouse to try and walk through the rain at a normal pace. For now, he believed they were safer here.

"Think warm thoughts," he whispered back to her.

He wrapped his arms around her fully now, and her frame molded against him like clay. She was so small, a trait he hadn't really noticed about her until now.

Chloe glided her hand along his chest. "Tell me about your parents," she said into his shoulder.

Clark looked down to her. "What? What do you mean?"

"I need to keep my mind on something else," she explained, returning his stare. "I know all about your adoptive parents. But what about your bio-parents? You haven't spoken a word about them since we've met."

The words struck him strangely, because he had never really thought of it like that. Bio-parents? Clark knew she had no intention of hurting him, but the harshness of her description offended him more than he wanted to admit. When he really considered it, he realized the two who conceived him were nothing more to him than how she described them, no matter how much he wished it were different.

And though he had no reason to, he defended them.

"I'm sure they had their reasons for leaving me," he insisted stiffly. "But I don't know much about them at all."

Chloe sighed softly. "Very few reasons are good enough for a parent to leave their child."

Clark knew she wasn't speaking about his parents any longer. The first time he came to Chloe's house for dinner it didn't take him long to realize she only lived with her father. Though he was curious about her family situation, he didn't dare ask until she was ready to share. Coming from his own problems with biological parents, he knew the subject was probably a sensitive one. Only because of a few select remarks was he able to retain the basic premise of the story; Chloe's mother had left her family, for no other reason than she couldn't take the pressure any longer. And though he knew what it felt like to be left behind, he didn't know what it felt like to be left behind knowing that was the reason.

Hugging her tighter, he conceited, "You're right. I can't imagine someone leaving you behind."

For a long time neither said anything, content to listen to the rain while in each other's embrace. Clark noticed his nervousness had faded the more he stood there with her, as he was growing more and more comfortable in her presence. There was nothing more amazing than standing with someone in such peace, enjoying each other on levels that surpassed anything artificial. Though he still harbored feelings for another girl, Clark felt strangely alive while in Chloe's arms; in a way he hadn't expected, and much too soon for a boy his age.

The rain began to lessen in intensity, and at that point Chloe spoke again.

"When did the Kent's adopt you?" she asked.

Clark rubbed her back soothingly with his hands. "I was really young, like two or three. I don't remember much about it, though."

Chloe nodded, then leaned back enough to look up into his eyes.

"When did you meet Pete?"

He smiled at the thought, remembering the day like it was yesterday.

"We were in the same class in first-grade."

"Did he steal your play-doh?"

"No, nothing like that," Clark said, shaking his head. "Actually, he saved my life."

"How?"

"Some kids were stealing my lunch money every day. I was too scared to tell the teacher or my parents about it. Pete noticed what was happening, and the next time the bullies tried to take my money, he stood up to them."

Chloe laughed softly. "Sounds like something Pete would do. What happened next?"

Clark shrugged sheepishly, and looked away. "Well, it was five against two in the schoolyard, so … it didn't take them long to beat us up. We were all forced to stay after school for fighting on school grounds."

"This must've been before you were able to throw bails of hay across football fields."

"If you mean before the farm work made me a little stronger, then yes," he corrected mildly, cheeks flushed. "But the bullies never asked for my lunch money again."

She sighed and settled her cheek against his chest. Clark placed his chin on her head and listened, to her heartbeat, her breathing. The rain continued to fall around them, heavy and drenching. Thunder rumbled across the horizon, and the branches of their shelter swayed and drifted with the breeze. Everything around them was caught up in the storm, yet they were safe in the cocoon from the tree, in the warmth of their embrace.

After a few moments, Clark inquired about her childhood. They had exchanged stories from their past before this, but there was still so much he wanted to know. And over the next hour they conversed endlessly, sharing emotions and memories neither ever imagined they would share with anyone else. It was a moment Clark was certain he wouldn't forget any time soon, as the intimacy between them became so much stronger and powerful. When the two of them began this walk, with no other intention than to be slightly mischievous in the dawn of their adolescence, neither knew it was going to lead to a moment in a thunderstorm, huddled under an oak tree.

Clark had always considered Pete his very best friend. After today, he wasn't certain he'd be able to make that claim anymore. As the hour drew on, he was telling Chloe some of his darkest secrets and most embarrassing moments. When he first met her months ago, he never imagined he would become best friends with her, first kiss or no first kiss. They were so much alike in so many respects, including the hurt of losing parents and being raised as an only child. Yet they were so different, as opposite as a farm boy and city girl could be to one another.

The longer he stood here with her, holding her in his arms, the more he knew how right this friendship really was. They accepted each other, flaws and all.

Just as quickly as the rain had come, it ended just as so. The clouds broke above them, and the sun began to peek across the sky like a fulfilling grace. Both of them looked up through the branches and smiled, then looked to each other. Though the barrier of physical intimacy remained, the others had been washed away by the rain. The foundation of ultimate trust had been born, here in the most unexpected place. And really, the current conditions would prove to be a test run, as the future ahead promised storms, yet promised they could survive them together.

Chloe finally stepped out of his arms, smiling wide into his eyes.

"Guess the Spirit in the Sky spared us for another day."

Clark nodded. "Guess so."

"Good to know that you're the guy to have around when I'm in trouble."

He smirked, then turned away from her to hide the warmth draining into his face. He was also growing a little impatient due to her absence from his arms, and that wasn't helping his physical body at all, either, as he was sure she would see the signs of his attraction if he were to stand straight before her.

"Just yell, and I'll come," he said, clearing his throat.

Chloe walked up to him and took his arm, urging him to turn and face her. He followed her insistence, but kept his eyes downward to the ground, afraid and unwilling to swim through the waves they had stirred up in their friendship. Though he couldn't see her face or even begin to guess what she was thinking, he watched her hands as they slid slowly down from his chest, to his waist. He considered she might try to kiss him again until her hand suddenly slipped into his front pocket.

Breathing in deeply, he jerked his head up to catch her eyes.

Then let the breath out when he realized the object of her search had nothing to do with seduction. Rather, she had pulled out his pocket knife, the same his father had given to him only a year before.

Grabbing his hand, Chloe explained, "I want to commemorate this moment with my best friend."

He squinted his eyes at her.

"How do you plan to do that?" he asked.

She didn't say another word, only tugged him along closer to the tree trunk behind them. Clark could only watch in interest as Chloe flipped the knife open and pressed the point against the bark of the tree. When she began to carve letters into the wood, Clark finally understood her intentions.

In silence he watched the message in the bark form, letter by letter. When the time came, Chloe gave Clark the knife so he could make his own mark. Within minutes the declaration was clear.

_**Friends Forever **_

_**CS + CK**_

Clark had seen such messages before, carved in everything from tree trunks to the back of buildings and underneath bridges. And every time he saw them they referred to lovers rather than friends. Although he wanted to ask her if she ever intended their friendship to go in that direction, he decided against it. For now their friendship was what they needed, and the trust they shared far exceeded the levels most lovers survived on.

When they both stepped back to stare at the contract their hearts, and this moment, had written upon the bark of an old tree, Clark realized they might be the only two people who would ever see what they had done. Unless someone snuck on the property for the sole purpose of searching out hidden messages carved into bark, this part of the Kent Farm was rarely used. Odds were, not even his dad would have the chance to see it.

But he knew it was here. And that was all that mattered.

A quick look to his watch told him their time here should come to a close. His parents had probably been worried about them during the storm, and it was prudent for them to return so as to avoid embarrassment. Not to forget, dinner would be on the table soon and he was extremely hungry.

Clark reached out and took Chloe's hand.

"It's time for us to get going, before my parents send out the Calvary," he reasoned.

Chloe squeezed his hand, then turned to him.

"Thank you for being here with me."

He smiled. "Well, I really didn't have anywhere else to go."

Moments later they were headed back the way they had come, towards the farmhouse where a warm meal was awaiting them. Clark held her hand the entire way, though he didn't know why. He just really needed to touch her, to hold her until the world they had created for themselves on a summer afternoon finally dissipated into a memory, lost to the beat of the very steps they took through the green, lush farm fields.

0000000000000000000

_**To be continued … **_


	29. Chapter 24

_A/N_**: Finally an update. I have one more update after this to finish, then that should be the end. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to finish this, but only recently did my muse decide to wake up. Writing for Smallville has been almost impossible because of the horrible storylines currently residing on the show. I stopped watching it a long time ago, but when I heard they finally killed Jimmy off, my heart leapt with joy. **

**Thanks again to all.**

**-mackenzie925**

**----------------------------------------------------------**

_**One Year Later … **_

With the day gone, the Daily Planet newsroom was mostly silent now save for the constant drumming of fingers on a keyboard and the soft hum from one of the ten televisions hung from the ceiling. Engrossed in her concentration, Chloe Sullivan didn't notice the unusual silence or the sense of darkness that had draped over the newsroom with every minute the day turned to evening, then evening to night. Somewhere in the midst of her work, she'd had enough sense to turn on the lamp at her desk. She'd even had enough sense to get a third cup of coffee and one of the semi-stale donuts still uneaten from the morning rush.

Deadlines always did cause her to work long into the night.

Truth was, Chloe didn't mind the silence at all. In fact, if she closed her eyes long enough she could almost believe she was back at _The Torch_, strenuously working through the evening to get the next issue printed in time to meet her own deadline. She had little help then, only when Pete or Clark felt bad when they'd spent the entire evening swimming in Crater Lake while she slaved over her life's work. Clark's help increased more over the years, but it had never been nearly as much as she would've liked. He wasn't in the journalism business then, he was in the _'trying to impress Lana' _phase then. She never expected him to come to her aid when she really could do it on her own. When she was used to doing it on her own.

Now Chloe felt the same, but for different reasons.

Taking a small sip from her mug, she finally looked up from her computer screen to glance at the television. The news there matched the topic of her newest article, the same she was now diligently trying to edit before tomorrow's deadline. An awful hurricane had once again hit the state of Florida with deadly force. The damage was unbelievable, not to mention the hundreds of people who lost their lives. However, the latter number would have been far more in number had it not been for Superman's involvement. Because of the Man of Steel, entire suburbs of citizens were saved due to his quickness and strength. He evacuated thousands of people just in time, waited with them in shelters he himself constructed in nearby Georgia, then proceeded to help authorities clean up most of the major destruction for as long as he could.

By the reports just now coming in from ZNN insiders, apparently Superman had just left Florida moments ago, as the rest of the world could no longer afford to have him tied up with just one disaster a second longer. He'd spent almost an entire week there doing his duty, and Chloe could hardly wait to write the exclusive on his return to Metropolis.

She wouldn't have to wait long.

"Still burning the candle at both ends?"

Chloe glanced up from her computer screen to see Clark walking in, appearing from the darkness as if he'd been waiting to enter at the right moment. She hated it when he did that to her. No telling how easily he could spy on her without her ever knowing. Of course, she trusted him with her life, her heart, but it still caused her to wonder what other things he's seen her doing. They hid little from each other, but her private moments were still her moments.

"Of course," she said smoothly, her eyes swiftly turning back to her screen as she spoke. He must've stopped home to take a shower, because he showed no signs of someone who'd just survived a hurricane. In fact, he looked incredibly handsome in his jeans and dress shirt. Way too handsome.

"I have to be ready at all times in case a super hero decides to grace me with his presence. You haven't seen one racing locomotives anywhere near here recently, have you?"

Clark shook his head wearily. "No, but the minute I do I'll let him know you need your exclusive. We don't want the intrepid reporter missing her chance at the front page."

Chloe tried not to watch him as he walked slowly over to her desk. Even now, one full year after they reconciled, she could hardly resist him when he drew so close. It was even tougher still when she was supposed to be angry with him.

It had been a full two weeks, after all, since they'd last made love. That was far too long for them.

"Should I be ready for you to throw something at me?" he asked softly behind her.

She stiffened slightly when he stepped up to her chair and placed his hands on her shoulders. His touch sent electric shocks, full of fire and warmth all throughout her body. _Two weeks …_ _two __**whole**__ weeks._

_No, _she reminded herself swiftly. _Stay angry, be angry. _

"Let me know when Superman is ready for a one on one. Perry's going to take the life of my first born if I don't have it written ASAP."

Clark gently began to massage her shoulders.

"The last thing I wanted to do was worry you. You know I can't take you everywhere, especially when I have to do something dangerous. Lex wouldn't have cared one bit if taking me out meant going through you. I had to keep what I was doing a secret."

Chloe sighed deeply, then stopped typing.

"Fine, I can't be there when you're lifting a spaceship back into orbit, or bouncing bullets off of your chest. But I would like to know when you're trying to face off against the anti-Christ, the one who just happens to know what your one weakness is. Maybe I'm a demanding girlfriend, but I can't help it if I'd like to know when my beloved is about to plunge head first to his death."

"There was no plunging."

"No, no you're right," she agreed, standing from her chair. "It was more like you walking into a kryptonite charged trap inspired right from an old Indiana Jones movie, with spears, spiders, snakes, and the whole sha-bang."

"That's just a little dramatic, don't you think?" Clark insisted, watching her as she left his side and walked over towards the coffee counter. "There were no snakes or spiders."

With mug in hand, she poured herself another cup, with coffee just as hot as the steam coming from her own voice. "Just ropes laced with kryptonite that snatched you out of nowhere, followed by Luthor and his vermin trying to beat you to within an inch of your life. Had I known where you jaunted off to, I could've gotten to you far quicker with a trained SWAT team in tow to take out the bastard."

Chloe looked away and took another sip from her mug.

"Instead," she continued, "you took your discovery of his whereabouts and decided to tackle him by yourself. Partners shouldn't do anything by themselves, even if one of them can throw a 10 ton tractor into space."

Clark took her name plate off her desk, then ran his fingers over the etching of her name engraved in the gold plated metal.

"You and I both know you would've followed me there," he began quietly. He glanced from the nameplate to her eyes. "Then we both would've been dead. The last thing I needed to worry about was your safety."

Chloe turned away from him, unwilling to admit that he might be partly right. Her desire to scoop the latest story certainly would have urged her to ignore his pleas and follow him anyway, despite his warnings to stay away from a dangerous situation. Regardless, he needed to understand something, too. He needed to understand that compared to the last time the two of them skipped around town as partners they weren't sleeping together. The latter made everything different, made her _see_ everything different. Just like he wanted to protect her, she also felt the same for him and she would do anything to do so.

Honestly, she just didn't like the idea of Clark being in grave trouble, and her unable to help him. It was that thought alone, she realized, that truly scared her more than anything else.

His hand appeared at her shoulder, and only then did she realize he had walked across the room to be by her side.

"Still, you should've told me," she said, her voice teeming with a slight concession of his point. "Maybe tie me to a chair, but at least tell me the details of the stupid plan you were trying to fulfill. You didn't have to suffer at the hands of that madman for as long as you did. Just the thought of that cue ball torturing you … trying to use you to serve his own demented fetishes is enough to make me want to cut off his testicles and hang them from the flagpole outside his corporate headquarters."

Clark laughed softly as he wrapped his arms around Chloe's waist. He felt her ease within his embrace, and he knew then their little spat was close to an end.

"Maybe I should've released you on him," he whispered with a smile, bending down to place a soft kiss to her shoulder.

Although she wanted to be angry with him for a bit longer, Chloe just couldn't muster it. Despite everything, it **_had_** been two weeks since they'd made love, and a good ten days since they last saw each other. And it wasn't like he lied to her all the time.

Not to forget, the sensation of his arms around her was an incredible feeling.

"Next time, I promise I'll tell you," he said into her ear.

Chloe snuggled closer to him.

"Good, I'm glad our one rule for this relationship is back into play. Honesty, all the time."

The lack of honesty had ripped them apart years ago. When Chloe and Clark agreed to endeavor on this relationship once more, now when each of them had their ducks in a row both professionally and personally, they promised to be nothing but honest with one another. Lies were not going to be the reason they broke up ever again. Not ever.

But as Chloe thought to herself a little further, of course Clark's one lie here was done in honesty, as he feared for her life and was honest to himself about those very fears. And what good, ole' American girl could pass up a knight in shining armor?

Yet that wasn't all, and it wasn't that simple.

"Just know, Clark, that I would do anything for you. And you can tell me anything, from your likelihood of growing a second head when you reach your second stage or puberty, to the expose of your recent need to get up late at night for a second helping of your mother's apple pie."

Clark leaned back a little to look at her more clearly, his eyes scrunched in discouragement.

"You know about that?"

She smiled. "Of course. I sleep next to you about every night now. As Superman, your stealth is exceptional in tough situations, but as Clark Kent you sound like an elephant rumbling through a jungle every time you get out of bed."

"Did you just call me an elephant?" Clark asked, feigning hurt.

"You can handle it."

"Can I use an animal reference to describe what you're like when in bed?"

Chloe pulled out of his embrace and turned to look at him, her jaw dropped in shock and surprise with his lack of discretion. Even though they were the only two in the room, she couldn't stop the feeling of embarrassment flushing red across her cheeks.

"If your mother were here…".

He shrugged his shoulders, and gave her an infectious, charming smile.

"Well, she's not here," he said, pulling her back into his arms with a gentle, slow tug. "And I couldn't just use one animal as an example. I'd have to incorporate a few, based on your mood."

"You are bad boy, Kent," she teased in return, kissing his chin.

He drew her closer still, his voice a whisper.

"What me to start?" he asked, as his lips lingered at her neck. "Tiger, bear … " he began, then smiled and kissed her throat. "Rabbit," he continued, making her giggle, " … and shark …".

"Shark?" she asked hoarsely, her sense of will now gone completely.

He nodded while he kissed his way up her skin, to her cheek, her jaw line …

"You like to bite."

Before she knew it Clark was kissing her, his lips soft and warm and his hand gently touching her cheek. She responded to him immediately, and deepened the kiss just enough to feel the heat rise between them. Too much longer, and Chloe was sure her office space would be turned into an impromptu den of love. Of course, she could name a number of places that had that distinction for them. The common desire for the ideal bedroom setting never seemed to stop them.

Clark lingered the kiss for just a few seconds longer than he intended, then finally pulled away with their lips still only a few inches apart. He looked down into her waiting eyes and smiled wide once more.

"Are you ready to see the sunset?" he asked softly, his voice strained slightly from the kiss.

Chloe tightened her arms around his waist. "It already passed by this office building a few hours ago. You must've missed it while you were saving the world."

Clark glanced to the window and saw that darkness had long ago come over Metropolis. "Well," he began, turning his eyes back to Chloe, "I guess we'll have to find another sunset."

Chloe didn't have a chance to ask what he meant. She didn't have to, as the moment he picked her up in his strong arms she knew exactly what he intended to do. Without another word between them Clark carried her to the window best hidden by alleyways and poor lighting. No need to have to explain how Clark Kent could fly, especially before either of them were ready to tackle such a feat. Instead it was best to take precaution, and because they had done this more than once before, both knew the best one on the newsroom floor to fly out of without arising suspicion.

Like a dream, Clark flew out of the window and into the dark sky above. The stars were endless, encircled them, and Chloe had all but forgotten the deadline she so desperately needed to meet the next morning, She could call Perry from wherever she ended up and just instruct him to take whatever she had on her computer. It was good enough.

But at the moment, she hardly cared what Perry would think of her latest attempt at a Pulitzer. No, at this very moment, all she wanted to do was relish the man in her arms, and gaze at the western sky ahead of them.

"Where are we going, Superman?" she whispered in his ear, above the rousing wind. Her investigative reporter instincts never left her completely.

Clark smiled at her use of his surname. Playful, teasing.

"Somewhere beautiful," he replied.

-------------------------------------

tbc


End file.
